Whispering Sour Somethings
by Tuttle4077
Summary: Berlin Betty's broadcasts are having a strange effect on everyone including Hogan and his heroes! Can Hogan find out what is happening and put a stop to it? Oh the suspense!
1. Berlin Betty

I obviously do not own Hogan's Heroes. CSB and some joker with big ears and a freakin' awful voice does. (I'm joking! I love you Bing!!!!)

Yes... rolling right along...

**Whispering Sour Somethings**

**Luftstalag 13, Germany**

**August 23rd, 1943**

It was quite peaceful actually. Somewhere in the near distance, the sound of crickets filled the sweet summer air as the sun slowly began its decent in the sky. A breeze caught the leaves and shook them gently, adding to the peaceful melody of nature. _Yup, just forget about the barbed wires, the guard towers and the machine guns, and I could almost think I was home_.

Colonel Robert Hogan shook his head before resting it back against the barracks wall. He took a deep breath, savouring the fresh air. It wasn't often that the handsome, dark-haired POW let himself relax like this, but the serenity the late summer evening offered had been too much to pass up.

Unknown to his German captors, the American colonel was the leader of the most complex and successful underground operation of the entire war. Right under his very feet, men milled about in tunnels, working radios, building bombs, printing money. His operation did everything from blowing up bridges to helping other POWs escape and return to England. A smile tugged at the corners of Colonel Hogan's mouth. Right under the Krauts' noses.

"Colonel Hogan?" a voice said from beside him. Hogan casually slid his gaze over before returning it to the reddening sky. The black American sergeant was silent for a moment. He followed the colonel's eyes to the sky. "Pretty, isn't it."

Hogan just nodded. Then, slowly, he tore himself away from it. "What's up Kinch?" He asked as he started moving into the barracks. The sunset wouldn't last long and, as soon as it was dark, they were in danger of getting shot.

"We just got a message from London, Colonel," Hogan's radioman explained when the door to Barracks Two was shut.

The other men in the room perked up. Hogan himself found it hard not to feel excited. For the past two weeks, they had been bored out of their skulls. London had not contacted them with any missions and the Germans hadn't dropped any unexpected ones into their laps. "And?" Hogan prompted, somewhat impatiently when Sergeant James Kinchloe failed to continue.

"They have a nice little job for us," Kinch smiled slowly. He had to stop himself from laughing when everyone leaned in closer. Usually Kinch would get straight to the point, but things had been so slow lately that he was enjoying the suspense he had over his fellow prisoners and saboteurs.

"Well, out with it Kinch. Don't keep us waiting!" Corporal Peter Newkirk practically yelled. "What sort of job is it?"

"_Oui_," the tiny French corporal, Louis LeBeau, chimed in from his position at the stove. "Do not keep us in suspense!"

Kinch smiled at his friends' anticipation and decided to put an end to their rampant curiosity. "Seems there's a new munitions factory in Hammelburg. There are too many flak batteries in the area for our fighters to get through, so London wants us to blow it up ASAP."

Colonel Hogan grinned. Finally! "Well, let's see what we can do for them, shall we. I was starting to think that London had forgotten we were here!"

"Boy! This calls for a celebration!" Sergeant Andrew Carter exclaimed, jumping up from his lower bunk. No one could argue. Finally they had a respite from the boredom that had started to eat away at them.

"How 'bout a little music then Carter?" Newkirk announced as he dug around for their secret radio. "What shall it be gents? The BBC?"

LeBeau moaned. "Oh no, all they do is give new bulletins! We are trying to celebrate Pierre! This will be our first mission in two weeks. And our first _big_ mission in over a month!"

"Hey, how about that Berlin Betty," Carter suggested, earning a few odd looks from the others. He could feel his cheeks turn a little red. "Heck, she may be a little heavy on the propaganda, but she plays all the great songs, like Glenn Miller."

Colonel Hogan shrugged. Berlin Betty was the Kraut's version of Tokyo Rose. Every night, Axis Annie, with her seductive voice and implied beauty, would broadcast to the Allied troops, and in between playing popular music, would implore them to give up their pathetic and doomed hopes of beating the great German forces and surrender. And while the men whooped and hollered at her purring voice, they largely ignored her somewhat ridiculous attempts to sway their loyalty.

"All right Andrew, we'll listen to 'er for a while if there are no objections." Newkirk carefully pulled the radio out of its hiding place and tuned into the requested station. Soon the cheery voice of the Andrews Sisters filled the barracks.

"Olsen," Hogan pointed to one of the men in the room, "watch the door. LeBeau, we got any wine anywhere?"

"We've got something better than that boy- uh, I mean sir," Carter announced. "The boys in Barracks Three set up a still and Newkirk managed to barter for some real moonshine!" He jumped off his bunk and headed for the lockers by the door. He rummaged through and then pulled out a flask of clear liquid.

"Careful with that stuff mate," Newkirk warned Hogan as he was poured a glass. "It could burn a 'ole in the floor."

"Can't have that, the Krauts might find our tunnel," Hogan grinned. He glanced at the clear brew in his mug and then, with a carefree shrug, gulped some of it down. He sputtered and coughed as the good-natured laughter of his men filled the air. "Wow," Hogan managed hoarsely, his eyes watering. Raising his mug, he let out a little laugh of his own. "To the munitions factory in Hammelburg!" The other men echoed his toast as they raised their mugs.

The Andrews Sisters energetic voices dimmed away to be replaced by a sultry female voice. "Hello allies," a disembodied voice purred. "you have just heard the Andrew Sisters singing Bie Mir Bist Du Schoen, a song with a German name. Soon all your American songs will be German.

"Take my advice, stop fighting, give up and become part of the glorious Fatherland..."

Hogan rolled his dark eyes as her speech continued. "Please," he muttered as he polished off the rest of his drink. But as soon as he finished, a strange feeling began to grip his stomach. Why were they doing this? he heard himself ask. What had the munitions factory and the people who worked there, who would no doubt be caught it the destruction, ever done to them? Why couldn't they just leave the Krauts alone?

Hogan's eyes widened. Had he just thought that? He looked down at his empty cup and quickly refilled it. It had barely settled in his cup when he brought it to his lips and drained it. He looked around the barracks. The men also seemed a bit subdued, their cheer waning.

"Guard coming," Olsen reported half-heartedly.

Everyone seemed to be stuck in molasses, their movements slow as they tried to cover up their festivities. Newkirk grudgingly turned off the radio and as he did, Hogan felt a peculiar sense of relief.

The radio was barely hidden when the door burst open and the sergeant of the guard walked in. "What is going on here?!" the guard's voice boomed. Sergeant Shultz quickly closed the door so the light from the barracks wouldn't be seen outside. "What is going on here," he repeated a little more softly. The giant guard glanced around the barracks. "You know that lights were supposed to be out a half hour ago!"

"Oh come on Shultzie," Newkirk grinned, "LeBeau is afraid of the dark!"

"He is not," Shultz argued, though he was a little unsure. "I must report this to the Kommandant!"

Hogan gave a resigned shrug. "Alright Shultz, if that's the way you want it."

"That is the way I want it," Shultz assured him as he turned to leave.

"But while you're at it, you better report that it took you a half-hour to figure out our lights were still on. And hey, where were you when it was time to turn them out anyway? Isn't it your job to make sure they're off and we're all tucked in?" A wry smile formed on Hogan's lips as he saw Shultz squirm.

"Maybe the report to the Kommandant can wait," Shultz said slowly. "Now, it is time to turn out the lights! All of you, go to bed!" He turned to leave again.

"Not going to tuck us in Shultzie?" Newkirk grinned.

"Ha, jolly jokers!" And with that, the massive sergeant flicked off the lights and disappeared behind the door. They all waited a few minutes until they were sure he was gone.

Finally, Kinch spoke up. "Colonel, about our mission," he started hesitantly, but Colonel Hogan broke him off.

"We'll start on a plan tomorrow. But right now, I'm beat." It was only a half-lie. The real truth was that he didn't want to think of a plan, not right now. Not with this feeling that had grabbed hold of his stomach. What was it? Sympathy? Remorse? Whatever it was, it was enough for him to almost feel ill at the thought of causing harm to the Germans. And that frightened him. The Germans were the enemy for Pete Sakes! And as long as that munitions factory was up and running, they could make more weapons to hurt the Americans, Brits and French, Hogan's men and allies!

Shaking his head to clear it, Hogan turned and muttered a goodnight to his men before retreating into his office. The others looked at each other before silently crawling into their bunks and nodding off for the night.

The strange feelings that had tugged at his heart had disappeared after a good night sleep. But the worry over them hadn't. Colonel Hogan couldn't for the life of him figure out what had made him think such things. Had that dame on the radio gotten to him. Nah. Her attempts were far from subtle- laughably blunt. It would take someone with very little brains and willpower to fall for her propaganda. And Hogan was sure he had a high quantity of both.

Maybe the war was finally getting to him. Maybe it was his conscience suddenly realizing that the people he killed during missions had families and loved ones. Maybe it was a lot of things. He didn't know. What he did know was that thoughts like the ones he had the night before were dangerous to have in his line of work. He was a soldier and it was his duty to fight the enemy.

Right now, he had to concentrate on the enemy's munitions factory. London wanted him to bomb it and that was what he was going to do.

"Carter," Hogan called across the compound. The young demolitions expert glanced at him and tossed the ball in his hands to a group of prisoners before bounding up to his commanding officer.

"You hollered sir?"

Hogan wrapped his arm over the sergeant's shoulder and led him into the barracks. "Carter my boy, remember that little job London has for us." He could see Carter's eyes grow wide with excitement. "I need you to make me some of your finest time-delayed action bombs. And I need them done by tonight, think you can do it?"

"You betcha boy! Uh, sir…" Carter threw him a quick salute before scurrying down into the tunnel. The colonel grinned at his enthusiasm. He wished he could say the same about himself. The sooner they got this over with, the less time he had to think about his sudden attack of conscience.

**Mitchell Air Base, England**

**August 24th, 1943**

"Turn that garbage off corporal!" Captain Anderson barked." There are plenty of _allied_ stations that play the same sort of noise!"

"Aww come on Captain! It's funny!" the young corporal complained. Anderson just shot him a look. Rolling his eyes, corporal Dawson changed the station, effectively cutting Berlin Betty off mid-sentence. She was quickly replaced by Glenn Miller and his band.

Anderson grumbled and leaned back into his chair, gazing at his newspaper. A whole week. A whole week without a mission was driving him and his men insane. Insane enough to listen to Nazi propaganda. Oh sure, it was mostly harmless- too blunt to be effective- but it still grated his nerves.

What really worried him was that for a second, only a second mind, the dame on the radio was starting to make some perverse sense.

Anderson dropped the paper, which he hadn't been reading anyway and turned an eye to the window. Fog. England was covered with it, but what else was new? England wouldn't be England if it didn't have wretched weather, Anderson thought. Nothing at all like Arizona.

"Give up while you have time. There is new freedom to be found within the Third Reich!"

Anderson growled loudly. "Put a lid on that dame once and for all Dawson, or I'll have you on KP for a month!"

"Sorry sir, I couldn't help it!"

"Right, and I'm the Queen of England." Anderson was about to get up when the door to the little rec hall burst open. A man scurried in and made his way to the fireplace at the front of the room. Without a word, he turned the mug that sat on the mantle so that it was facing the room. He glanced at Anderson, nodded, and then disappeared outside.

Anderson sighed, though he wasn't sure if it was a sigh of relief or frustration. The mug, an ugly thing that had the face of a man on the front was their signal. When it faced the wall, they were grounded, but when it faced the room, it meant they would soon be up in the air. He glanced at the window again. The fog must be clearing soon. And they would go up.

For some reason, the thought made Anderson sick.

And now a word from your friendly author, Tuttle.

Okay folks, this is my first fanfic ever... so be nice... or I might cry... and that would be very sad indeed, no joke!

Also, remember to use Swan Soap! Swan is the best soap afloat!!! Well I Swan!!!


	2. The Mission

Hello again! It's the weekend! Lots of time to write and update! Hurrah, hurrah! Okay... on with the story...

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The same sounds that he had heard the night before filled the air- crickets, the wind in the leaves- and the smell of late summer flowers hung in the air. But tonight was different. Yesterday, he had been relatively safe within the confines of Stalag 13. Now, dressed entirely in black, Colonel Hogan was on the other side of the wire, on route to blow up a munitions factory. Not exactly the safest activity a POW could engage in. Tonight he couldn't enjoy the comforting sounds of a summer night. He had to block those out and instead focus on anything that was out of place- bushes rustling, twigs snapping, voices whispering.

Hogan swiftly moved through the forest that he almost had memorized. How many times had he snuck through it while on a mission? Enough times that he had practically taken every possible route twice.

Carter followed his movements. The normally clumsy young man had the same speed and grace tonight that Hogan had. Perhaps it was the fact that he had a bag of explosives strapped to his back. That usually provided enough incentive to remain steady.

The munitions factory outside of Hammelburg was only three miles away from the camp. It wouldn't take long to get there. Luck was on their side tonight. It was clear, with a big moon in the sky- a bomber's moon, he thought wistfully- and they'd only had to sneak past one German patrol so far. Of course, he didn't expect the patrols to be much of a problem on the way- what sort of danger could be in the middle of Germany? It would be coming home that they'd have to worry. It was sort of hard to ignore an entire factory blowing up.

Hogan suddenly stopped and crouched down beside the closest tree. This was the tricky part. A few yards ahead, the forest was interrupted by a road on the other side of which, lay a wide, open meadow. The meadow lasted stretched a mile in all directions before the forest started again. Not much protection there. It wasn't exactly ideal for sneaking through on the way to a factory if you were planning on breaking into it and blowing it up. Obviously whoever had chopped down that patch of forest hadn't been thinking of him. Darn Krauts. If he had had more time, Hogan would've plotted a way o get in through the main gates as some sort of inspector. But London had put an ASAP on this mission, so here they were.

Their luck was holding out. The road was deserted and they quickly crossed without incident. Hogan sucked down in the ditch on the side of the road.

The dreaded field lay ahead.

"Okay Carter, this is it," Hogan said in a low voice. "Just follow my lead and be quiet."

"Don't worry Colonel, you can count on me!"

"I know I can. Let's go."

Too often, Carter was thought to be a bumbling fool, but Hogan knew differently. He wouldn't have included Carter into the organization if that had been the case. Sure, he was a little clumsy and socially dense, but Carter was a good soldier and a capable saboteur.

This mission would've been impossible in the winter with thick white snow covering the field. As it was, the summer grass was tall, coming up to Hogan's chest. Hunching over, the grass came over them, hiding them from view. With a little stealth and a bit more luck they could sneak into the forest undetected.

It didn't take long before they were once again safe within the dense forest. A mile or more and they would be at the factory.

As they got closer, Hogan stopped to take in the situation. There were a few soldiers slowly making their way around the perimeter, but other than that, the only other security was the high barbed-wire that circled the compound. A road cut through the forest and led into the only gate on the far side. Not much unlike Stalag 13, Hogan mused. It wouldn't be too hard after all.

After a few minutes of studying the soldiers movements, Hogan motioned for Carter to stay put. Silently, he slid down the slope that cut off the trees and sprinted to the fence, crouching down outside it. He had a two minute opening before the next soldier rounded to corner. Pulling out his cutters, Hogan snipped at the wires and made a nice, tidy hole for him to squeeze through. He ducked in and found himself a barrel to crouch behind. He turned so that he could wave Carter in, only to find the demolitions expert already behind him. Suppressing a small smile, Hogan nodded and turned his attention back to the compound.

"All right professor, you're the expert," Hogan's voice was barely a whisper, "where do we plant these little packages?"

Carter took the opportunity to scan the compound. He wished they had been able to sneak inside the building, but under the circumstances, he'd have to place the bombs outside. Wherever they put it, it'd have to make a big enough explosion to destroy the rest of the factory. His eyes lit up with excitement as he found the perfect target.

"Colonel, that truck over there," Carter breathed, "it looks like it's full of ammo and junk. And just look at that… it's parked right outside of a supply hut… Maybe the Krauts aren't so bad after all if they gave us such a nice setup."

Hogan followed Carter's gaze and rolled his eyes. It was a perfect setup… except for the three German soldiers that were loitering nearby. "And what about Hans, Fritz and Kurt over there?"

Carter's expression fell. He hadn't noticed them. Three soldiers were standing a few yards away from them, very close to the truck. "We could always take them out?" He cringed. Sure, Carter was a soldier- he was trained to kill people- but as a bombardier in the United States Army Air Force and as the demolition expert of Colonel Hogan's sabotage team, he had never actually killed someone up close.

Hogan shook his head, nixing the idea. "The point of this is stealth Carter. Gunfire draws a lot of attention. And that's something we don't need." Furrowing his brow, Hogan tried to come up with a solution. "I don't suppose there's somewhere else we can plant these?" Carter scanned the area, but his eyes kept falling on the truck. Hogan rolled his eyes. Of course. "All right, fine. Wait here!" And to make sure he actually listened this time, Hogan pushed on Carter's shoulder and sat him behind the barrels.

With careful silence, Hogan crept out from his hiding place and dodged towards the closest building. Pressing himself against the wall, he side-stepped around the corner, and then the next.

He was behind them now. Hogan took a few deep breaths, debating the merits of running like the devil to the supply hut, or creeping slowly and quietly. He finally decided on the latter. The soldiers' attentions were to the outside of the compound. And to further hinder their concentration, one was smoking. Brilliant. Hogan could've just given them a pack of smokes and let them do his job for him. Smoking next to a truck full of ammo… idiot!

Hogan stepped out of the shadows and tiptoed through the open space. With a silent sigh of relief, he reached the hut and pressed himself against him, willing himself to blend into the shadows.

So far, so good. In fact, it was going so well that Hogan found himself feeling suspicious. Surely _something_ had to go wrong- it seemed something always did.

Shaking the thought off, the colonel slid along the building and stopped at the corner. Time to see if his faith in Carter was justified. Hogan's eyes scanned the ground until he found what he was looking for. A lone twig lay in front of him, carelessly blown in by the wind. Taking a deep breath, Hogan raised his foot and slammed it down onto the unsuspecting stick.

CRACK!

Hogan winced. _Great, I'll have the entire factory down on me_! Actually, it wasn't loud at all. But it was enough to catch the soldiers' attention. Hogan could hear their conversation stop. One gave the other two orders to investigate. _All right Carter, take the hint. _Hogan pulled out his gun, listening to the approaching footsteps. Even though he was expecting them, his heart jumped into his throat as the first soldier rounded the corner. His fist however, wasn't as stunned as his ticker obviously was, because it had already connected with the man's face. The second soldier gave a yelp of surprise before Hogan brought the butt of his gun down onto the back of his neck. The soldier crumpled like a rag doll. Maybe Hogan had hit him a little too hard.

But he didn't have time to dwell on that. With both Germans down, Hogan made his way to the truck on the other side of the building. He couldn't help but smiling when he saw Carter crouched over the still body of the third soldier. The sergeant looked up and grinned. Hogan quickly replaced his own smile with a disapproving frown. "I thought I told you to stay put Sergeant."

Carter's grin faded. "Gee sir, I thought that…"

Hogan's grin was back. "Easy Carter. You did exactly what I wanted you to do. He dead?"

Carter squirmed. "No sir, I just knocked him out."

"Then we better hurry. Get those explosive set up and set the timers for ten minutes." Carter nodded and set to work while Hogan crouched beside him, his gun ready.

"Done."

"All right, let's get the heck on out of here."

Carter didn't argue and the two Americans made their way back out of the compound and into the safety of the forest. The young sergeant waited until they were a safe distance before he began to chatter excitedly. "Boy, I sure wish we could see the factory go up! Boy, It's going to be great! POW! KABOOM! BANG! S-"

"I get the point Carter. Shhh!"

"All right, no problem, I'll be quiet. You can cou-"

"Save it for tonight after we get home."

Hogan paused at the edge of the trees. That darn field again. If anything was to happen, it would happen here, he was sure of it. But there was no point in avoiding the inevitable. So, with a deep breath, Hogan ploughed ahead. They weren't far when the summer silence was shattered by an earth-trembling explosion. The sky behind them lit up a brilliant red as more explosions went off. Both men stopped to look back. Carter jumped up and punched the air. Hogan admired his enthusiasm, but now wasn't the time for it. Grabbing his arm, Hogan pulled Carter forward, speeding up their pace. It wouldn't take long for the Germans to get organized and add more patrols to the one they had past before. As far as Hogan was concerned, the Krauts were too touchy. It was only a little factory blowing up- nothing to get all worked up about.

They seemed to fly through the meadow and soon they were safe on the other side of the road. Hogan couldn't believe their luck. This was too good to be true.

Finally!

There it was- the hitch Hogan had been waiting for with some sort of morbid anticipation. In the distance, a truck, loaded with soldiers no doubt, was making their way down the road.

"Hey, colonel, look," Carter began.

"I know. They're not that close, but we better get moving. They-"

"Not that," Carter interrupted, noticing the focus of Hogan's attention. "Those." He pointed up to the sky. A squadron of bombers were approaching. "I thought there were too much ack-ack in this area."

"Maybe they're out of range," Hogan shrugged. "The ack-ack could be just close enough to the factory to cover it, but not out here…" He watched the bombers with a twinge of envy but shook it off. "Come on, let's go." He glanced at the approaching troops, estimating their distance, before starting out again.

"What the hey is he _doing_?!?!"

Hogan almost stumbled at Carter's loud outburst. "Carter-"

"Look!" Hogan followed Carter's finger. His eyes grew wide. One of the planes was starting a quick descent. He peered at it intently. It didn't seem to be on fire… in fact, nothing was wrong with it.

"What the hey _is_ he doing?!?!" Hogan echoed his sergeant's question.

They couldn't do anything but watch in dumb shock as one of the bombers broke formation and headed towards them. The massive plane seemed to hesitate before making an awkward landing in the pasture.

Tempted though he was to rush out there and find out what was happening, Hogan remained still. He put a hand on Carter's shoulder to make sure he also stayed put. The German soldier were too close to try anything stupid. Hogan and Carter watched in with forced silence as the truck pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. The Germans looked as stunned as their enemies to see the American bomber sitting in the open field. The quickly surrounded it, their rifles raised and ready. An officer started yelling for the men inside the bomber to step out and surrender.

Hogan half-expected for one of the gunners to open fire on the lot of Germans. But his hopes didn't live long. Slowly, but surely, eight Americans filed out of the plane, their arms raised in the air. The Germans were stunned, but they soon got over it .

Hogan forced his eyes away from the sight. It wouldn't take long for the Germans to send some men into the woods. "Come on Carter, we've gotta get out of here."

"But sir, they just-"

"Nothing we can do about it… yet…" He pulled Carter along. _What the heck just happened_?!?! Hogan couldn't find an answer. But if those men wound up in Stalag 13- even if they didn't!!!- he was going to find out.

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It's me! Tuttle! How'd you like Chapter 2?! More to follow, I'm sure, unless I'm kidnapped by aliens... O.O!!! That'd be horrible!!!

Just a reminder to all you "people from Maine to Delouth; be sure to put Pepsodent on every tooth and whether you're as old as Crosby or only a youth, your mouth will never be as empty as a telephone booth." - The Bob Hope Show.


	3. Mutiny

Another update? I'm on fire!!! Woohoo... Actually, I just want to get this written before I forget it all... that would be bad...

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Night bombing. That's the way it should be, Anderson found himself thinking. He always felt so… exposed flying over enemy territory in broad daylight. Of course, this was probably only a one time opportunity. Apparently the brass was sick of keeping the Americans grounded because of fog during the day. The nights had been clear, so off they went.

Anderson did a last minute check over his plane. _Dinah_ had a few patches here and there, but other than that, she was beautiful. Anderson was proud to be her pilot. If only she had a different purpose.

What?! Back to that again?! Anderson growled at himself. Earlier that morning he had found himself questioning what he was doing, bombing innocent civilians. It took him all afternoon to remind himself that the Germans were the enemies! They did the same thing to poor innocent British civilians. Besides, he wasn't going out to bomb a city tonight. No, his objective was a train station in Dusseldorf- used to transport munitions and troops. A perfectly military target.

"Ten minutes before take off, Captain," Private Jenkins announced, coming up behind his commander. Anderson nearly jumped out of his skin. He grabbed hold of himself and whirled around to face his subordinate.

"Thanks, Hank. Where's everyone else?"

"Still in the rec hall, sir. Listening to the radio."

Anderson felt his cheeks burn. "It'd better be the BB F'ing C!" Marching past Jenkins, Anderson made his way to the rec hall and burst through the door. Just as he thought… Berlin Betty, with Corporal Dawson at the radio. "ATTENTION!!!" Every man in the room snapped to attention and saluted. Anderson's eyes rested on Dawson, narrowing dangerously. When he spoke, his voice seethed with fury. "Can anyone explain to me why, with only ten minutes to take off, you're all in here, listening to that Nazi on the radio?"

The men squirmed and suddenly found their army-issue boots terribly interesting. Dawson, unable to escape Anderson's murderous glare, cleared his throat. "We… we were just trying to unwind before we go out tonight…"

"Listen to me, and listen carefully corporal. Unless you want to loose a stripe and be on KP for the rest of your career, I suggest you turn that darn radio off and get to your plane. The same goes for the rest of you. Move out!" The men shuffled their feet, but didn't readily obey. Anderson stomped over to the radio, his hand stretched towards the knob and… stopped. For some stupid reason that he couldn't quite explain, he felt himself sucked in. The alluring voice of Berlin Betty danced in his ears, forbidding him to turn off the radio. She was spewing the same old lines, the same old propaganda, but he found himself mesmerized. It wasn't until a loud whistle shrieked through the air that he was able to tear himself out of the daze. The radio died as he quickly flicked off the switch. Regaining his composure, he turned to his men. "Move out!" he repeated the line he had said only a minute ago. Funny, it had felt like so much longer.

His crew was waiting for him when he reached the plane. Dawson, his navigator, avoided eye contact. Anderson ignored him. Everyone else seemed ready, although a little disheartened. Maybe, as their commanding officer, he should give them an uplifting speech- inspire them a bit. But that would be hard, considering he didn't feel too enthusiastic himself. "All right boys, let's get this over with," was all he could manage. _Good job Teddy_, he berated himself, _way to motivate them._

Anderson waited until the rest of his crew was aboard before pulling himself into the cockpit. The controls seemed foreign to him, but he managed to taxi the massive plane down the runway and pull it into the air.

No one made an attempt at conversation. Anderson focused on the hum of the engine. It was peaceful, soothing. It was a perfect night for flying. The full moon cast its silvery light on the waters of the England Channel below him and there wasn't a disagreeable air current to be found. It became apparent, as they approached Germany without one single shot from the ground, that this mission was going to be a milk run.

So what was with this nagging feeling he had?!

"This is ridiculous," Anderson growled, much louder than he intended. Dawson, who was beside him plotting out a course, gave him a strange look.

"What is sir?"

"Nothing," he muttered in reply. He noticed Dawson fidgeting in his seat. "Ants in your pants?"

"No sir," Dawson answered. "It's just that… well…"

"Spit it out."

"Well… permission to speak freely sir?"

"For the next ten minutes until we reach our target," Anderson replied warily. He had a horrible feeling he knew what the corporal was going to say.

"Sir, do you know what our target is?"

"Yes…"

"It's a train station. You know, it's not just used to transport military stuff. Civilians might use it too. I mean, there could be kids down there or little old ladies or-"

"At midnight?"

"That's not the point sir. I just… I can't do it. I mean, what did the Germans ever do to us? Nothing, that's what. I mean, sure they've bombed the British… but they haven't done anything to the Americans! All I'm saying sir, is that… well, it just seems wrong."

"He's right," Anderson's co-pilot Lieutenant Richards added. Anderson raised an eyebrow as he looked over. Richards rarely said anything, but there was an undeniable conviction in his voice that resonated within the small cockpit.

"That's just dandy," Anderson spat sarcastically. "Let's just turn around right now. Or better yet, let's just take the plane right on down and surrender." His eyes grew wide when he saw the hopeful look on the other men's faces. "Now wait a minute!"

"'There's a glorious future in store for the Third Reich,'" Dawson recited.

"That's it!!! After this mission, that we are completing, and after we get back to the base, I will personally destroy that radio and put you on KP for a year!!! And then I'll have you digging latrines!" Anderson shouted. "I can't believe you actually said that!!!"

"And I can't believe you're actually going to go through with this! Bombing civilians-"

"It's a military target corporal! I don't like the idea of bombing orphans and widows any more than you do, but this is our job, understand!"

"No sir, I don't."

If he hadn't been strapped into his seat, Anderson would've throttled the corporal at that very moment. He would have to settle with shooting daggers at him with his eyes. "How close are we to our target?" he demanded. Dawson mouth tightened into a thin line. Anderson glanced over at Richards, only to be met with the same look of determination. _Great… a mutiny. _"Listen, I don't need you to give me directions- I can follow the rest of the formation. And I don't need you to co-pilot for me either. If you don't want to be a part of this, I suggest you make your way back, sit down and shut up."

Dawson undid his strap and pushed himself onto his feet. Shooting his commander a dirty look, he ducked out of the cockpit and disappeared. Anderson muttered under his breath. The United States Army had a newly demoted private.

Suddenly, Roberts' voice crackled over the intercom. "I won't do it," the bombardier stated.

"What?!"

"I just spoke to Dawson sir, and I won't do it."

"Me neither," another voice said.

"Or me!" came the cry from the rest of them. The only one he didn't hear was Jenkins- a private for Pete's Sakes. He'd be the only one to come out of this with his stripe intact!

Now what was he going to do?! His officers training hadn't covered this. A mutiny?! This was ludicrous! All right, it was time to approach this logically- if any logic could be found in the mess. Anderson forced himself to take several deep breaths. He turned in his seat to address his men, only to find Dawson standing (as well as he could in the cramped cockpit) behind him, with a gun in his hand.

"We can't do this sir. It isn't right. We're taking the plane down. Now."

"You're crazy!"

"Just take your hands off the controls sir," Dawson said flatly. Slowly, unwillingly, Anderson dropped his hands into his lap. Dawson peered out the side of the plane, surveying the ground below. "Hey Mike," he said to Richards, "you see that field up ahead?! Take us down." He turned his attention back to the Captain. "We're going to land and we're going to surrender. And we're going to spend the rest of the war in a POW camp where we can't cause anymore harm."

"I'll have you court-marshalled," Anderson threatened.

"Fine, but it'll have to wait until after the war. Take her down Mike."

It was like some sort of bad dream. Anderson couldn't do anything but watch as the ground seemed to get closer and closer. What was worse was the fact that he felt strangely relieved!

The ground was dangerously close now. Anderson braced for impact and glanced over at his co-pilot. Richards' eyes met his and for a moment, Anderson could see a wave of uncertainty. It took one quick look at Dawson to reaffirm their decision. Without another thought, Richards brought the plane to the ground. The planed bumped off the dirt before skidding to a halt.

An eerie silence fell upon them. Anderson couldn't believe they had actually done it. This had to be a bad dream. But reality quickly asserted itself with the sounds of German voices. He didn't have to speak the language to know what they were saying.

Slowly, Anderson got out of his seat and turned to his insubordinate corporal. "All right Dawson, we're here. Lead on." Dawson's composure faltered as the demands for surrender grew louder. He suddenly felt panicked and began to shake. Anderson felt his blood boil. "Move!" he snarled, pushing Dawson forward. The corporal stumbled out of the plane and raised his hands into the air. The others joined him and they all stood, silently staring at their captors.

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I'm going to be honest, I did not really like this chapter. But, I guess it just goes to show you how convincing that Berlin Betty babe can be... o.O!!!

This chapter was brought to you by "Bullet Be Gone!" Bullet wounds causing you trouble? Bullet Be Gone can help. Yes, cure all your bullet wounds with one simple pill! Available over the counter at your local drug store. Warning, side effects may include- weight gain, weight loss, vomiting, sore throat, diarrhoea, constipation, hair loss, hair growth, increased appetite, loss of appetite, chills, fever, death, gunshot wounds, stab wounds, and/or craving for pickles... not suitable for children under five...


	4. New Prisoners

Hello, hello again! Boy, where did the day go?! Advice to all you out there- when travelling in a big city, make sure you have a map... they're quite handy actually... Anywho... rolling right along with Chapter 4...

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He wasn't sure what to make of it all. Maybe he was still in shock. That wasn't so surprising, was it? After all, he had just witnessed an American plane land in enemy territory- on purpose!!!

"He must've had a good reason!" Carter began excitedly as they travelled quickly towards Stalag 13. "I mean, you don't just decide one day to land in the middle of Germany for no good reason! Maybe they're controls were going all screwy, maybe the pilot was having a heart attack, maybe-"

"Carter!" Hogan warned with a low growl. The rambunctious sergeant grew quiet. More softly, Hogan continued. "I already told you, there's nothing we can do about it. As soon as morning rolls around, I'll see what I can find out from our 'beloved', loosed-lipped Kommandant. Quiet, we're getting close to camp."

"No pro- oomph…"

Hogan rolled his eyes and helped Carter pick himself off the ground. "Carter, maybe you should just carry around a stick of dynamite at all times."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Hogan muttered. Carter shrugged and followed the colonel. Soon, the camp was in sight. The two ducked and weaved their way to the entrance of the emergency tunnel- a hollowed out tree stump. They crouched down behind it and waited for the camp's search light to pass over them before popping open the top and climbing down the ladder. Following the wide tunnel, they soon reached the heart of the tunnel system, the radio room. Kinchloe, LeBeau and Newkirk were there, waiting for them.

"Welcome back!" Louis LeBeau greeted brightly.

"Back without a scratch even," Kinch noted. "It must've gone well."

"Went well? We could see that ruddy factory go up from 'ere! You've finally done something right Andrew!"

"Aww shucks," was all Carter could say. He knew he should be offended, but he also knew Newkirk didn't mean any harm.

Kinch was the first to notice the troubled look on Hogan face. "What's wrong colonel?"

"Let's just say that not _everything_ went according to plan tonight," Hogan began, not sure how to explain what they had seen.

"What do you mean, mon colonel?"

"Yeah colonel, everything went off great! Boy, you guys should've been there!!! We had to take out three guards and one of them was smoking! Smoking next to an ammo truck. Boy, he was just asking for it. And then it blew up and then we were in the forest and this bomber landed right in the middle of this field. I mean, except for that, everything went well, wouldn't you say sir?!" Hogan rolled his eyes. He should've known Carter would blurt that out.

"Colonel, what is he talking about?" Kinch asked, his eyebrows crawling high onto his forehead.

"We were on our way back when suddenly, there were all these bombers. And one of them came down and landed in that big field."

"Was he on fire or something?"

"No, that's the crazy part. There wasn't a thing wrong, as far as I could tell. He just broke formation and came on down." Kinch furrowed his brow as he listened, looking as confused as Hogan felt.

"Do you think the Jerry's stole a plane and brought it down?" Newkirk asked, trying to come up with a plausible explanation.

"I don't think so. I mean, the Germans looked just as surprised as we were."

"So now what Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"The colonel says there's nothing we can do about it right now, but he'll talk to Klink in the morning," Carter answered before Hogan could even open his mouth.

"Thanks Carter," Hogan said with soft sarcasm. Carter just grinned sheepishly. "But he's right. I'll talk to Klink in the morning and if needs be, we'll get 'General Kinchmeyer' to get on the horn and bully the Luftwaffe." He glanced at Kinch and shared his smirk. "Until then, I say we all get a good night's sleep." And with that, Hogan turned from his men and made his way up to the barracks above.

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Getting a good night's sleep had been easier said than done. Hogan just hadn't been able to shut his brain off. So, he was understandably tired when it was time to fall out for roll call. Klink was saying something in the background, but Hogan ignored him. He had other things to worry about. _There are some strange things happening around here and I won't rest until I get to the bottom of it_. Had he just thought that? Ugh, he'd obviously been here too long. He was starting to sound like Klink!!!

"Colonel Hogan!"

_Speak of the devil… _Hogan shook himself and glanced up at the Kommandant from his spot in the roll call formation. "Colonel Klink?" he replied cheerfully.

"You didn't hear a word I said!"

"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that? I didn't hear a word you said."

Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of the 'toughest' POW camp in Germany, narrowed his eyes, nearly losing his ever present monocle in the process. "The insolence!" Shaking his fist at the cheeky POW, Klink turned his attention away from him and to Shultz. "Shultz! Tell Colonel Hogan that if it is all right with him," his words dripped with sarcasm as he gave a side-long glance at his American counterpart, "I would like to see him in my office after roll call!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!"

"Diiiiissss-missed!" Klink said with a salute, before turning on his heel and marching back to his office, riding crop tucked tightly under his arm. The prisoners broke formation and went about their business. Shultz lumbered towards Hogan.

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink says that if it is all right with you, he'd like to see you in his office, right away!"

"Really?! When did he say that?!"

"Just before he left. You didn't hear him?!" Shultz looked at him incredulously. Sometimes, he wondered about the American's sanity.

"Nah, I try to tune out annoying little noises like that."

"Oh…" He paused and then grinned. "HAHA! Oh, that is a good one Colonel!" Shultz laughed. He almost slapped the American on the back, but thought better of it and walked away, laughing the whole time.

"What do you think he wants?" Carter asked as he and the other heroes gathered around Hogan.

"Oui, do you think it has something to do with that bomber?"

"Or the factory?"

"Or both," Hogan amended. "All right, I'll go and see what ol' Blood and Guts wants. You boys listen in on the coffeepot." The men nodded and filed into the barracks. Hogan straightened his leather bomber's jacket and made a beeline towards Klink's office.

"You wanted to see me Kommandant?" Hogan said brightly as he burst into Klink's office without so much as a knock.

Klink looked up from his paperwork and shot Hogan a frustrated look. "Yes I did Hogan. So nice of you to grace me with your presence. Make yourself comfortable. Schnapps? Cigar?"

"No thanks, I'm trying to cut back," Hogan gave the Kommandant a cheeky grin as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He nonchalantly peered at the papers on Klink's desk, expertly reading the upside-down German. Klink seemed to notice for once and quickly pushed all the papers together. "Now why'd you do that?"

"Hogan, these papers are top secret!"

"Oh I understand sir. We wouldn't want the enemy to find out how much sauerkraut you're ordering. It could undermine the whole German war effort!"

"Hogan you _are_ the enemy."

Hogan snapped his fingers and winked. "I keep forgetting that. So, what you want to see me for?"

"I called you here to inform you that Berlin has given me permission to let you and your men listen to the radio once a week in the rec hall."

"That's great! I can't wait to listen to the BBC sir."

"You will _not_ be listening to the BBC!" an exasperated Klink shouted. Sometimes Hogan was such a pain. Correction, Hogan was _always_ a pain! "The order allowed for me to play Berlin Betty and that is all."

Alarms sounded off in Hogan's brain. Berlin Betty? His mind raced back to the other night and the strange feelings that had overcome him and his men while listening to the program. "Well, that's great Kommandant… Uh, did Berlin give any reason for this unexpected kindness?"

"No they didn't. Is something wrong Hogan?" Klink asked, noticing the apprehension in the other man's face.

"Uh, no Kommandant. If that's all, I'll be going now." Hogan turned and trotted out of Klink's office and into the reception area. He leaned against the door, racking his brain. Something was up. And whatever it was, he'd bet his bottom dollar that this was one of the pieces he needed to solve this current mystery.

Oh dang! He forgot to ask Klink about that bomber...

Before he could do much more about it though, the door burst open and a short man dressed in a black uniform marched into the reception area. Hogan frowned. Major Hochstetter- Gestapo. Hogan loathed the man and glared at him with unconcealed contempt. Hochstetter returned the sentiments.

"Out of the way Hogan," the major growled. Hogan raised an eyebrow and stepped aside, letting him pass. Hochstetter yanked open Klink's door and stomped in. Hogan, of course, turned to follow, only to have the door slammed on his nose.

"Unfriendly lot that Himmler crowd."

"Are you all right, Colonel Hogan?" Klink's pretty- and extremely well built- secretary, Hilda, asked with concern.

Hogan gave a pathetic sigh, playing for sympathy. "As long as I don't sneeze anytime soon," he answered, rubbing his offended nose. Just as he had planned, Hilda came up and gave him a peck on the nose.

"Better?"

"Much," he grinned, returning the favour. But as much as he was tempted to continue, he had other things to do. "See ya later, Hilda," he said with one last quick kiss before making his way outside. He was greeted by a SS guard who, after recognizing him as the enemy, grabbed his arm. "Hey!" Hogan protested. The guard said nothing and ushered him away from the building and, incidentally, the truck parked outside it. _Three guesses as to what, or who, is in there_.

"Just drop me off here," Hogan told his chaperone as they approached his barracks. He guard loosened the tight grip he had over Hogan and stood by the door, waiting. "Nice travelling with you." The guard didn't move. "Expecting a tip? Sorry, but us POWs are on a limited income-"

"Get in," he sneered, pushing Hogan forward.

"All right, all right. Last time I do business with your travel agency." Hogan opened the barracks door and shut it firmly behind him. He turned and stuck his tongue out at the guard on the other side. Juvenile, sure, and maybe unbecoming an officer, but it made him feel better anyway. Straightening his jacket from the manhandling he just received, he made his way to his office to find his men in there, hovering over his desk. In the center of their gathering, sat an old coffee pot which served as the receiver for their tap in Klink's office. At the moment, it was relaying Hochstetter's rather one-sided conversation with Klink.

"What did I miss?" Hogan asked Kinch.

"Seems a train station in Dusseldorf was bombed last night," Kinch relayed what they had heard so far. "Hochstetter wants to keep a few prisoners here until he can arrange for their safe transport to Berlin."

"Since when do the Boches care about the safety of prisoners?" LeBeau spat, with more than a hint of disdain.

"Since they practically landed in the Gestapo's lap," Hogan answered.

"You think the prisoners are the bomber crew from last night?" Carter asked.

"I'd put money on it."

"So what's the plan Colonel?"

"First off, I want to talk to them, find out what the heck happened. And to do that, we need to make sure they aren't sent to the cooler."

"Why? Couldn't you just go up through one of the tunnels and-"

Hogan cut Carter off. "If these guys purposely surrendered, do you really want to give them a glimpse at our operation here?"

"I guess not," Carter conceded, deflating a little.

"All right, so how do we keep them out of the cooler?" was Newkirk's question. "Prisoners this important, Hochstetter's going to insist on it."

Hogan shrugged. The fact they were Gestapo prisoners was going to make it a little more difficult. In the background, he heard Klink assure Hochstetter that the prisoners would be kept under heavy guard in the cooler. Thanks a lot, Klink. He looked at his men, searching for the solution. It suddenly came to him from an unexpected source.

"Not the cooler!" Hochstetter's voice barked. "I want them put into the barracks with the other prisoners!" Hogan raised an eyebrow.

"But, but, major Hochstetter, all new prisoners-"

"I don't care. I want them with the other prisoners. I have a feeling they can teach them a lot."

"Now what does that mean?" Kinch was suddenly very, very suspicious.

"What do you mean?" Klink asked at the same time.

"These prisoners are very special," Hochstetter explained. "They surrendered to the Third Reich quite willingly, bringing an intact B-17 with them. If nothing else, they will serve to shake the morale of the men in the camp."

"Oh I assure you major Hochstetter, the morale in this camp is already low. Every prisoner here is thoroughly cowed, thoroughly…" The silence coming from Klink's office was deafening. Hogan could practically see Klink shrink under Hochstetter's glare.

"Make sure one of them is sent to Hogan's barracks," Hochstetter said curtly. A moment later, they heard the door slamming shut. Kinch unplugged the coffeepot and pushed it aside.

"Well colonel, now what?"

"LeBeau, spread the word across camp. No one tells them anything. Kinch, contact London, see if they know anything about this. Carter, find out which barracks they're being sent to and make sure the barracks chiefs understand the situation. I'm going to want to know anything and everything these new prisoners have to say. Newkirk, pump the guards for any information."

"We're on it colonel," they chimed in unison. "What're you going to do colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Well, someone has to be here to greet our new roommate." Hogan shooed his men out of his office and joined them in the main room. A moment later, the door opened and Shultz stepped in, trailed by an unfamiliar man.

"'Ello Shultzie! What've we got here then? A new prisoner?"

Shultz stepped aside, motioning the two in. "Ja, new prisoner. Major Hochstetter brought him and a few others here temporarily."

"Well that was awfully nice of him. Thanks Shultz."

"You're welcome." Shultz stepped past the new man and left.

"All right, it's probably safe to go now. Get going," Hogan ordered his men quietly before turning to greet the new addition to the barracks. "Hi there. I'm Colonel Robert Hogan."

"Captain Theodore Anderson."

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And so Hogan and Anderson have finally met. Now maybe Hogan can sort this mess out... or maybe not!

This chapter was brought to you by a pirate with a wooden leg... oh dear...

Oh! And as per suggestion, I've written an outline! GASP! If my English teacher ever finds out, he might faint from shock! And then he's going to put Groundwater in for a medal or something... Heck, I might actually become an organized individual... Nah, don't wanna kill the poor man...

Later days folks!


	5. The Fight

Hello again faithful readers... o.O... yes, well, Chapter 5 is up (obviously). Hope you like it...

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Captain Theodore Anderson inwardly sighed. _Great, just great_. For the past few hours, he'd been paraded around by the Germans, lauded for his 'wise' decision to surrender to the superior might of the Third Reich. Now he had been temporarily plopped into a POW camp as a part of a German propaganda campaign. He had no doubts whatsoever that this was how the rest of his internment was going to play out. Great. Obviously the Germans didn't understand their enemies. Anderson and his men wouldn't convert anyone over to the Nazis… they were probably just going to get themselves killed for being traitors.

Anderson warily sized up the colonel in front of him. Since the man hadn't gone and punched him outright, Anderson figured he was probably ignorant of his situation. Good. He'd keep it that way and hoped the rest of his men would too. Now, if only the Germans would co-operate and keep their mouths shut, then maybe Anderson could get through here and wherever else he was sent alive.

"Welcome to Stalag 13 Captain," he heard the colonel- Hogan?- say amiably. "It's not much, but we like to call it home." He made his way over to the stove and picked up the pot that was sitting on top. "Coffee?"

"No thank-you sir." Hogan shrugged and poured himself a cup. Anderson took the moment to survey his surroundings. What a dump. Several bunk beds were squeezed together in the tight space and in the middle of the room was a table with a bench on either side, and a small stove. Clothes hung off strings tacked to the walls and some of the bunks. A set of lockers stood against the wall by the door.

Hogan seemed to notice him gazing about and smiled. "Like I said, not much. You'd think the Germans would find _you_ something better."

Anderson hadn't missed the slight emphasis in Hogan's words and bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Hogan shrugged casually. "Nothing. So, tell me Anderson, what outfit were you with?"

Anderson had been expecting this. The colonel was checking him out, making sure he was on the up-and-up. As long as he didn't ask any questions about baseball, or how exactly he was 'captured', he'd be all right. "The 410th."

"Ah, so you're a flyer." Anderson nodded. Where was he going with this. Of course he was a flyer! He had wings on his jacket didn't he?! "Pilot?"

"Yes sir," Anderson answered suspiciously.

"Well, consider yourself lucky then. The Luftwaffe respects pilots." Hogan paused. It was time to go in for the kill. He just hoped lightning didn't strike him down for such blatant lies. "They're not a bad lot, you know. The Germans I mean and the Luftwaffe especially. They treat you really well. In fact, if I had to do it over again, I'd probably surrender right off the bat." Anderson visibly paled. Then, just as quickly, his whole face turned red with anger.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I would've thought a colonel would be more devoted to fighting the enemy." He pressed on, not letting Colonel Hogan even begin to argue. He knew what the colonel was trying to do- get him to admit to his surrender. He wasn't about to let that happen. "Not that I'm surprised. When I got here, Kommandant Klink told me this was the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. Not a single escape. Seems to me, giving up like that and not trying to do anything to get out is just as bad as surrendering outright." It hadn't been his idea to surrender. And he wasn't going to let this colonel, who seemed all too compliant with his captors, get self-righteous on him.

It was Hogan's turn to bristle. _He_ wasn't the one who had landed his plane right in the middle of Germany. It took all his self-control not to put the Captain in his place by telling him _exactly_ what he did around here. "Listen Captain, I'll come straight to the point. I know exactly how-"

Suddenly, the door to the barracks burst open, effectively cutting Hogan off. Shultz lumbered in, completely unaware that the two officers looked like they were about to slug each other. "Oh, Colonel Hogan, I am glad you are here."

"Where else would I be? Klink turned down my request for a three-day pass." He didn't look at Shultz, he just kept glaring at the other officer.

"Haha, Jolly Joker! Kommandant Klink wishes for me to inform you that you and your men are 'invited' to the rec hall to listen to Berlin Betty." Shultz whistled and outlined an hour-glass figure with his arms.

Hogan caught the strange look the passed over Anderson's face. "Thanks Shultz, but I'm kind of busy right now. I'll catch it later."

"Uh, Colonel Hogan, when I said invited, I really meant ordered."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Ordered?" The alarm bells were sounding off again. "Why would he make that an order?" The question was more to himself, but Shultz answered anyway with his usual 'I know nothing' spiel. "All right, thanks Shultz." The blubbery sergeant offered a salute and left. "You're in for a treat Captain. It's not often we get to listen to the radio around here. Not that you _need_ Berlin Betty's propaganda. Though she could probably use you."

"What does that mean?!"

"Nothing. Just that it'd probably be propaganda gold if she had the American pilot who willingly brought down an entire B-17 and its crew on her show." At that moment, Anderson was seriously thinking of punching his superior officer right in the nose. Heck, he was already branded as a traitor. Might as well add insubordinate to the list of charges.

Fortunately for both of them, Kinch picked that moment to come in through the door. He had heard the officers arguing from the radio room below and had quickly climbed in through the tunnel in Barracks 3 and had practically ran to his own barracks. "Colonel? Everything all right here?"

"Yeah Kinch. Listen, would you escort the Captain to the rec hall. I'll gather everyone else."

"No problem Colonel. But, why are we going to the rec hall?"

"The Kommandant has 'invited' us there to listen to Berlin Betty."

"Berlin Betty?" Kinch repeated, recalling the last time they had listened to her with no small amount of alarm. He was about to continue when Hogan shot him a look and nodded to the Captain. "Okay…" They'd talk about it later. "Uh, come with me Captain, I'll take you over."

"Thanks Sergeant." Throwing Hogan a dirty look, he followed Kinch outside. Hogan frowned and followed them out to gather the rest of his men.

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The men from barracks one through four squeezed together in the rec hall. Hogan and his men sat off to the side, ignoring the cheery music that filled the room. Hogan kept his eyes locked on Captain Anderson as they spoke.

"What'd you find out Kinch?" Hogan started with his radioman.

"London had no idea what had happened, so I decided to get a complete dossier on our newest additions.

"Seems Captain Anderson over there was up for promotion. He's been on over thirty missions and has one of the highest success rates in the 410th." Hogan raised an eyebrow as he listened. "London was actually shocked when I told them what he'd done."

Hogan took off his cap and scratched his head. "Anything else?"

"Not really. The rest of them came up clean. "

"Okay. Newkirk?"

The Englishman shrugged. "Our guards don't know anything. But they're under orders ta make sure nobody offs them. I did manage to get something out of one of those ruddy SS guards though. Seems they're going to be taken to every prison camp from here to Berlin."

"Probably as some sort of propaganda stunt. LeBeau? You get anything in your travels?"

"Non, mon colonel."

"What about you Carter? Did you happen to find out where any of them are staying?"

"A couple were brought in when I was talking to the barracks chiefs. Let's see… there's a Corporal Dawson in Barracks 33, a Sergeant Roberts in 14 and a Private Jenkins in number 4."

"Barracks 4?" Hogan, whose attention had slipped away from Anderson, now turned back to captain. Sure enough, he was standing close to an unfamiliar private. "That him by Anderson?" Carter nodded. "Well, let's go up and greet him, shall we?" He was about to get up when Newkirk stopped him.

"I don't know why you're making a big deal 'bout this guv'nor. It's not like what they did was really wrong."

Oh no, not this again. He was really starting to hate this Berlin Betty and whatever she was doing to make his men- and he had to admit, him as well- go suddenly crazy. He glanced at the radio that was now broadcasting Betty's seductive voice. He grimaced when he noticed the two guards flanking it on each side. Oh well, nothing a little diversion wouldn't take care of. And he had the perfect one in mind.

"Kinch, take that radio out of action."

"Have you noticed the two armed guards beside it?"

"Leave that to me." Hogan jumped to his feet and bounded towards Anderson. "Hey, Captain," he said brightly. Anderson turned, only to be met with Hogan's fist in his face. Anderson stumbled back and grabbed his jaw in shock. He blinked a few times to register what had just happened. It only took a moment and then his own fist flew back at the colonel. _Well, he started it_.

The entire hall erupted in chaos as the two officers scuffled about, exchanging blows. The guards were dumbstruck at first, but then moved in to break up the fight. Kinch took the opportunity and went to work on the radio. Popping open the back, he took out a small pocket knife and snipped a few wires- cutting Berlin Betty off mid-sentence. He put the back on again and moved away. He managed to get the colonel's eye and nodded. Hogan nodded back, ducking to miss Anderson's fist. He got in one more good punch before the guards broke them up- each grabbing one of the officers from behind and dragging them away from each other.

Hogan shook the guard off him and casually wiped off some blood that was tickling down from his nose. Well… that was fun.

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Oh Hogan, what're we gonna do with you...

And now a note to you reviewers. Thanks! I appreciate it!

Hubbles- I'm so glad you like my take on Carter! He's my favorite character! He reminds me of me! A little klutzy, a little blond, and generally cheerful- cause he doesn't see the point of going through life looking for the bad in things. Anyway, from some of the stories I've read, not a lot of writers do Carter justice...

All righty... so just keep reviewing and remember, constructive criticism is always welcome... but uh, keep it nice...

Oh right! I almost forgot an advertisement... uh... let's see...

This chapter was brought to you by "the courtesy of 'Slushies'- the only breakfast cereal that is shot out of a water pistol. Folks, you'll just love 'Slushies'. They don't snap, crackle and pop like other breakfast cereals, they just lie there and ooze!

"Mothers, you'll cheer when you see the way your kids dive into a bowl of 'Slushies'... They never come up again."- The Bob Hope Show


	6. Together in Solitary

Oh, glory be! The weekend is almost upon us! Hallelujah! Almost as great is this- Chapter 6 is up! Woohoo!!!

A reminder... I don't own Hogan's Heroes... sigh...

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"Absolutely disgraceful!"

Kommandant Klink whirled to face the black-eyed American officers and searched their faces for any trace of remorse. None. Instead, Colonel Hogan had that cheeky smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Anderson was solemn but not the least bit rueful. Exasperated, Klink cast a glance towards Major Hochstetter, who was observing from the corner. The major was uncharacteristically silent- offering no help or hindrance in the matter. Klink turned his attention back to the senior prisoner of war.

"Now, what caused all of this?" He was answered with a thoughtless shrug from Hogan and steady silence from Anderson. "Humph. Disgraceful, you Americans. You would never see German officers acting like that. We have much more civilized ways of dealing with disputes."

"Unfortunately, I'm not in the position to send Anderson to the Russian front," Hogan quipped, a dark humour tinting his words.

"Hogan, I'll get to the bottom of this! Now, both you and Captain Anderson will be punished severely! 30 days in the cooler for both of you!"

"Not 30 days!" It was Hochstetter who protested. Startled by the sudden outburst, Klink turned to the major.

"But Major Hochstetter-"

"Hogan you can keep in the cooler! But I will be taking Captain Anderson with me when I leave!"

"Very well. Hogan, you will be sent to the cooler for 30 days. Captain Anderson, you will be there until Major Hochstetter comes for you."

"Hey, wait a minute! _I'm _the one with the bloody nose!" Hogan cried in semi-mock indignation.

Klink ignored him. "Shultz!!!" A moment later, Shultz popped his head into the office. "Shultz, take Colonel Hogan and Captain Anderson to the cooler."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Shultz said with a quick salute. He marched up to the wayward officers and led them out the door and into the compound. Hogan strolled along as slowly as he could, keeping an eye out for one of his men. There they were, pretending to play ball near their hut. It was quite obvious that they had been waiting for him, because as soon as he came out, Kinch was already on his way over.

"Cooler?"

"Yup." He glanced at Shultz, who either hadn't noticed Kinch's presence, or didn't care. Probably the former. In a low voice he continued. "Unless I'm stuck in the same cell as Anderson, I'll meet you guys in the tunnel tonight after roll call. In the mean time, I want you to talk to the bomber crew and see what you can piece together. I figure since Anderson was the pilot, he was behind it all, but I want to know _why_."

"No problem Colonel. I'll see you-"

"Was ist los? Kinch, go away, I must take the Colonel to the cooler!"

"Aw come on Shultz, I just wanted to give the Colonel this baseball!"

"Nein, it is verboten!"

"Well, what do you expect me to do in there for 30 days?!" Hogan objected as he took the offered glove and ball from Kinch. Shultz began to protest but thought better of it- after all, how would he explain it if Hogan ended up with the baseball _after_ he'd been placed in the cooler (and there was no doubt in Shultz's mind that it could happen). Instead, he shooed Kinch away and quickly escorted his prisoners to the cooler. Placing each in their own adjoining cell, Shultz locked them in and left.

Hogan couldn't help but smile as he slid against the wall and sat down. Good ol' Shultz. The sergeant had taken him to one of the cells with a tunnel entrance. Hogan didn't exactly mind the cooler- in small doses. It gave him a chance to think without constant interruptions. But after a day, it got boring, not to mention a little uncomfortable, and it was nice to know that he could sneak out whenever the small space got a little too tight.

Hogan studied the well worn ball in his hand, tossing it up a few times. With a wicked grin, he changed directions and threw it against the opposite wall.

"Would you stop that… sir?!" An angry voice hollered from the next cell.

Hogan caught the ball and let it slip onto the floor. Rising to his feet, he paced for a moment, before moving to the door and poking his face out of the tiny window near the top. "Anderson?"

"Who else?" the other man spat.

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Listen Captain, I think it's time we had a little talk about your situation."

"Yeah, that went really well the last time."

"Well, unless one of us can punch through concrete, I think we're both safe." That was met with a soft snort from Anderson. "Listen. I know exactly how you got here. You landed your plane in a field not far from here the other night."

"Mind telling me how you know that?"

Hogan shrugged. "Klink told me," he lied. "He likes to make a point of telling me when the allies do something incredibly stupid." Silence. "Why'd you do it, Anderson? What on earth would possess you to surrender to the Nazis?"

From his cell, Anderson shifted uneasily but remained quiet. He hated being thought of as a traitor, by both sides. But, even if he told the colonel what had happened, he hardly doubt that Hogan would believe him. Besides, even though he hadn't been the one to land the plane, he was still responsible for what had happened. He was the pilot and the captain. There were a hundred things he could've done to stop it- but he hadn't. His guts twisted when he thought of the strange relief he had felt as they landed. No, he was just as much to blame as his men. But that didn't answer the colonel's question. What had made Dawson and the others turn against him? And why had he felt that relief?

Unable to come up with an answer, Anderson remained prudently silent even when he heard the thumping of Colonel Hogan's ball against the wall.

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Ah, the tunnels. It was nice to get away from the claustrophobia of the concrete cell above and escape into the claustrophobia of the dirt tunnels below. Hogan hated them but they were an essential part of his organization. And so for that purpose, he'd always ignored his very irrational and very stupid, but very real, fears.

His men were waiting for him in the radio room.

"All right, what have you guys got?"

"Klink and Hochstetter told everyone about Anderson and his crew's surrender at roll call, guv'nor," was the first bit of information brought to him by Newkirk.

"Guess they're not afraid of anyone 'offing' them in their sleep," Hogan surmised, using the Englishman's earlier terminology.

"Eh, no, Hochstetter made it clear that if anything happened to them, we'd all be to blame and suffer the consequences," Kinch informed him distastefully.

"Okay, well make sure everyone in camp knows that _I_ don't want anything to happen to them either. At least not until we figure out what's going on. Did you manage to talk to the crew?"

"Oui, we all did. I spoke with a Lieutenant Richards, but he did not say very much," LeBeau reported quietly, feeling he had somehow let the colonel down.

"I talk to three of 'em, but they didn't say anything either. But I don't think they really wanted us to know what they'd done."

"Would you? You might have better luck tomorrow, now that Klink and Hochstetter spilt the news for them. Kinch, Carter?" They both shook their heads. Hogan let out a frustrated growl. "All right, like I said, better luck tomorrow. Kinch, the Krauts say anything about the radio?"

A small smirk tugged at Kinch's mouth. "Yeah, Klink was really steamed about it." He held his hand up to his eye as if holding an invisible monocle. "Because of your colonel Hogan's foolish behaviour," he recited, his voice imitating Klink's, "the radio in the rec hall was damaged! There will be no more broadcasts until it is repaired. You can thank your commander in 30 days when he comes out of the cooler! Humph! Diiiiissss-missed!" The men burst out laughing at Kinch's impersonation. But suddenly, Kinch grew very serious. "About those broadcasts sir…"

Hogan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what's going on. It's like every time I listen to that dame, I feel…"

"Guilty," Newkirk said quietly. "I feel like we should just leave the ruddy Germans alone- give up."

"Oui," LeBeau confirmed uncomfortably. "Whenever I listen to her, I feel as though I am a…" he struggled to put his feelings into words. He didn't want to admit it, none of them did. "I just think of all the people we have killed along to way," he finally finished quietly.

Hogan shifted uncomfortably. He could remember thinking, when all this started happening, of all the civilians that would die in the munitions factory. He could remember the absolute dread he felt when he thought about how those people had lives, loved ones- wait a minute!

The pieces were starting to fall into place. He couldn't see the entire picture yet, but maybe this explained Anderson…

"That's it," Hogan snapped his fingers. How could he be so dense?

"What's it?" Carter asked, not sure where his commander's mind had led him.

"Listen, a lot of strange things have been happening around here. First, we all start thinking _crazy_ things when we first listen to Berlin Betty. Then Klink gets an _order_ from Berlin telling him we have to listen to it. Then we get Anderson- a man up for promotion, who's flown over 30 missions- surrendering by landing his plane in the middle of Germany. Maybe I'm stretching here, but it certainly sounds like they're all connected."

"It sure does. But I don't get how listening to the radio can make us think all those things."

Hogan furrowed his brow. Carter had a point- how could a radio broadcast affect them like that. "Kinch, Newkirk, I want you to make a call to Berlin."

"Berlin?"

"Yeah. 'Kommandant Klink' is going to report that the camp's radio is out of service and that we won't be listening to Berlin Betty. Maybe they'll be good enough to tell you why those broadcasts are so important."

"Then what?" LeBeau asked anxiously.

"Well, let's assume for a second that the Krauts are up to something-"

"They usually are!" Newkirk quipped.

"Right. So, whatever it is, we find out what it is and put a stop to it. Simple!" His men groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Nothing to it… 'Ow do you propose we stop it?"

"Details, details. First, we need to find out what's up. Get to it Kinch."

Kinch threw Hogan a quick salute and parked himself in front of his radio. He fiddled with the knobs and switches until he got hold of an operator. He motioned to Newkirk- arguably, the best Klink impersonator- who took over, using his best 'Klink' voice. "This is Kommandant Klink of Stalag 13. Get me General Burkhalter in Berlin right away!" There was a pause before he started speaking again.

"General Burkhalter?… I'm sorry General, I didn't mean to… Why did I phone sir?" The men had a hard time keeping themselves from laughing. Newkirk's performance was brilliant- spot on. Klink was so easy to imitate, his cowardice towards the brass was so predictable. "Well sir, heh, heh you remember that little order you gave me… of course sir, your orders are _never_ little… I mean the one about Berlin Betty… Well sir, the radio broke, they can't… but sir, I don't understand… yes sir, right away sir!… Who sir?… Of course, I will be delighted to have you both here!… Heil Hitler!" Newkirk tossed down the transmitter and shrugged.

"Well?"

"Didn't tell me a bleedin' thing. Just said to get a radio up and working and to resume broadcasts ASAP."

"Wait, you said that he was coming here with someone!"

"Oh, right. 'E said 'e was coming tomorrow afternoon with a Doctor Kunze."

Hogan frowned. "Great, just great. How are we going to explain this all to Klink?"

Newkirk winced. "I 'adn't thought about that colonel."

It would be a different story if he was out of the cooler. He could manipulate Klink into thinking he had forgotten. But he was stuck in the cooler and none of his men were in the position to talk to the Kommandant like he could. He needed to get out of the cooler before Burkhalter arrived.

"All right! Tomorrow after roll call, get a hold of Anderson's crew and squeeze them. Be sure to mention Berlin Betty, see if they've ever listened to her. Meet me back here at 0900." He checked his watch. "I better get going- the guards will be checking the cooler in a few minutes. I need to try to figure how to get out there before tomorrow afternoon."

"Good luck Colonel," Kinch grimaced.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something, I always do." And with that, Hogan turned and made his way back to the cooler.

As quietly as he could he pushed aside the tile that covered the entrance to the tunnel and hoisted himself up into his cell. He waited until the guard peered in through the small window in the door and he heard him walk down the hall.

"Anderson, you awake?" Hogan called.

"Yeah. Where you disappear to? You haven't been throwing that ball around for over an hour."

"Oh, my mitt was getting a hole in it. I thought I'd take a stroll outside," Hogan answered sarcastically.

"Whaddya want Colonel, sir," came the cold reply.

Hogan took a deep breath a pushed on. "Captain, have you ever listened to Berlin Betty?"

There was a surprised silence from the other cell. "I did today in the rec hall… before you came up and punched me." Anderson wasn't going to give the colonel an inch.

"Before that. It's important Captain."

"Yeah. I've listened to her, unfortunately. Wished I never did."

"Why's that?"

"Never cared for her propaganda. My corporal, Dawson, he likes to listen to her a lot."

"You ever feel… strange when you listen to her?" Anderson remained quiet. "Listen Anderson, I have a theory-"

"Yeehaw…" Anderson interrupted with a unimpressed tone.

Hogan clenched his fist. Anderson was lucky he was on the other side of a thick concrete wall. "Let's have a truce Anderson. We don't have to like each other, but maybe we can help each other. I have to get out of here by tomorrow-"

"Hot date?" Anderson said sarcastically.

"Something like that. But in order to do that, I need your help."

"What exactly do you want me to do Colonel? I'm sort of stuck here."

"Convert me."

From his cell, Anderson blinked. "Convert you?"

"Yeah. I want to be a traitor too."

---------------------------

All righty folks. That wraps it up until the next chapter.

And now, a crazy, odd fact from me... Tuttle!!!

Jell-O is the official State Snack Food of Utah... craaaaazy...


	7. The Truth

Hello, hello again. JS Tuttle reporting with another chapter in the wild and wacky tale! Enjoy... o.O...

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"Excuse me?!" Anderson didn't know whether to be furious or shocked- or both. It was the first time someone had actually come out and called him a traitor aloud. His stomach churned and grew tight. There it was- he was a traitor. And he hadn't even been the one to land the plane. A traitor by association.

The anger grew. Not against the cocky colonel in the next cell. No, this anger was towards his men- towards Dawson mostly. _He_ were the one who orchestrated the plan to land the bomber in enemy territory. True, he didn't put up much of a fight, but what was he supposed to do with a gun pointed at his chest? Nothing. But then again, maybe he should've tried. Wasn't death better than this shame?

What made him even more angry was the fact that he just didn't get it. What had made Dawson turn? Sure, he had a little trouble with authority and his taste in radio programs was a little objectionable, but the kid was as patriotic as they came, or so he had been. Anderson had flown several missions with him before the whole episode took place and not all of them had been milk runs. The corporal had obviously snapped, but why?

Anderson shook his head. He didn't care. He was tired of this whole mess. He just wanted it to go away. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up back on the ranch in Arizona. Or, at the very least, wake up at Mitchell Airbase, ready to face a new, mutiny-free day in the sky.

"Find someone else to teach you. I'm not a traitor," Anderson said quietly.

The soft declaration almost touched Hogan into leaving the man on the other side of the wall alone- almost. But he wasn't going to let Anderson off the hook. "Oh really? You were the pilot. You saying that your plane just landed itself?"

"No." The voice wasn't angry or spiteful but had a hollow resignation to it.

"I think it's about time you explained to me what happened Captain."

Anderson let out a deep breath. He couldn't, could he? Up to this point he _wasn't_ a traitor- he knew it. A coward, maybe. But a traitor, no. But if he were to tell the colonel what happened, he'd be betraying his men.

The anger rose again. Why shouldn't he?! One good turn deserved another. And that went for bad turns too. His men betrayed him, it was time to return the favour.

"I didn't land that plane Colonel!"

Hogan almost jumped at the loud outburst- so different from the quiet, defeated tones the captain had used a moment before.

"Well who did? The Germans by remote control?" Hogan shot back. (1)

"No, my men did."

Hogan arched an eyebrow. "Your men? Men who take orders from you. Nice try Captain, but you can't hide behind your men if you gave-"

"I didn't order them to land. It wasn't my idea at all!" Anderson snapped, balling his fist.

"But-"

"If you wanna know what happened, then shut up and listen!… Sir."

Hogan repressed a smile at Anderson's last second addition of 'sir'. "All right Captain, I'll 'shut up and listen." For now, anyway, he didn't add. So far, antagonizing the stubborn captain had been sort of hit and miss. Hogan didn't want to push his luck. Another insult or sarcastic remark from him could stop the captain from explaining. And Hogan really did want to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

Anderson ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Where to start? The beginning… but where was that? The mutiny on the bomber? No. Something had led his men up to that point, but what? Anderson couldn't find the answer and so he decided to go with the bomber.

"That night we went down… it was supposed to be a milk run. Nothing to it. We were going to bomb a train station in Dusseldörf. We were just crossing into Germany and one of my men started spouting off-"

"Who?" Hogan wanted names.

Anderson pretended he hadn't heard him and started where he had left off. "-about how we were-"

"I asked who, Captain." The captain remained silent for a long time. Hogan couldn't really get mad at him for that. He probably felt he needed to protect his men- just as the colonel himself would do. But something Anderson had said early rushed to the front of his brain. He had said Dawson liked to listen to Berlin Betty. "Was it Dawson?"

Anderson was stunned. "How did you know?"

"Never mind," Hogan waved the question aside for now. "Just keep going. It was Dawson, wasn't it?"

Anderson let out a ragged breath as he felt his anger grow. "Yeah, it was him. Kept rattling on about how we were bombing civilians and how there was a glorious future for Germany, yada, yada. I kicked him out of the cockpit, but the others agreed with him and he came back with a gun and Lieutenant Richards is landing the plane… The rest is history I guess."

Hogan considered what the captain had just told him. Under normal circumstances, he would be beyond sceptical. But the explanation was so absurd that Hogan found himself actually believing it. But he needed more proof than just Anderson's word.

"You expect me to believe all this?" Hogan asked, switching back to antagonizing the other man.

"Frankly sir, I don't care whether you do or not!" Anderson snapped.

"I didn't think so." Just then, Hogan could hear the guards making their rounds. Both prisoners remained silent until they had left. Hogan glanced at the tile that hid the entrance to the tunnel. He had to go down and give Kinch an update. "Well, good night Captain," Hogan said with a fake yawn.

"I thought you wanted me to help you get outta here," Anderson replied, perplexed by the colonel's sudden change in attitude.

"Later. Night Captain." Hogan sat against the wall and silently waited until he could hear Anderson settle down in his cot. Then, he pulled aside the tile and lowered himself into the tunnels below. When he reached the main room, he tapped on the ladder and waited. A moment later, the entrance to Barracks Two opened and Hogan climbed up. He was greeted by Kinch, who still looked half-asleep. The other men were still asleep, but Hogan didn't bother waking him. Kinch would do.

"What's up Colonel?" Kinch asked, quickly shaking himself awake.

"I just had a nice talk with Anderson. He said he wasn't responsible for what happened. One of his men, Dawson, was." Hogan gave Kinch a quick synopsis of his conversation with Anderson.

"You believe him Colonel?"

Hogan shrugged. "Crazy thing is, I do. But we have to make sure. I want _you_ to talk to Dawson tomorrow."

"Is that it Colonel?"

"For now. Night Kinch."

"Colonel, before you go; have you given any thought to what you're going to do about General Burkhalter and that doctor?"

Hogan shrugged. "I've got a few ideas. But I'll need Anderson's help. And for that, I need you to prove his story right."

"Count on us Colonel," Kinch grinned as Hogan made his way back into the tunnel.

"I always do," Hogan smiled back before disappearing into the dark.

--------------------------------

Roll call was uneventful. It usually was when Hogan wasn't there. Kinch waited until the Kommandant had dismissed him before gathering Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter together. "Okay guys, we've got two hours before 0900." Kinch gave them each two men to cover. He'd take Corporal Dawson and Lieutenant Richards, who was the co-pilot, himself. The group dispersed, each trekking across the compound to find their target.

Kinch found Dawson lounging outside of his barracks, watching a volleyball game that had broken out amongst the men. "Hey Corporal," Kinch greeted in as friendly a manner as he could.

Dawson looked away from the game and stood a little taller. "Morning sir."

Kinch was momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected Dawson to acknowledge his rank- many new prisoners overlooked it, concerned only with the color of his skin, not how many stripes he had. He especially hadn't expected it from a man who had surrendered voluntarily to the Nazis, a group that didn't exactly have a high tolerance of other races.

"Something wrong?" Dawson asked.

"Yeah, there is actually," Kinch replied, deciding he needed to come straight to the point before he started to like the corporal. "You surrendered to the Germans, and I wanna know why." Dawson pale but stayed silent. Kinch decided to give a little push. "We know you were the one behind it all, Dawson."

"How did you-"

"We've been talking to the rest of the crew. They said you pulled a gun on Anderson and forced Lieutenant Richards to land the plane."

"I didn't force him! He wanted to!" Dawson protested.

"Why?"

Dawson struggled to come up with an answer. He wasn't sure what to tell him. Finally, he decided to go with the truth. He only hoped Kinch would believe it. "It wasn't because I like the Nazis or anything. I don't. I just couldn't bear the thought of dropping any more bombs on people who didn't do anything to me- little kids, little old ladies… They didn't _ask _to be Germans, it's not their fault!" Dawson sighed. "And the Germans, they're so powerful, nothing can stop them! I just didn't see the point to it anymore. There's no point in trying to tear down the 'glorious Third Reich'." Dawson slumped against the barracks. "Either way, I'm a traitor," he admitted quietly.

Kinch regarded him for a moment before continuing. He sounded so sincere, Kinch had a hard time doubting it. "Why the sudden attack of conscience? That Berlin Betty finally get to you?" Kinch tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was an urgency in his voice that he couldn't hide.

Dawson almost laughed, but then his eyes grew wide, almost in shock. "You know… This is going to sound crazy sergeant, but I really started thinking about all this when I was listening to her on the radio. But that doesn't really mean anything. Does it?" It struck Dawson as odd that the sergeant had asked that particular question as if he expected and knew the answer.

Kinch threw him a wry smile. "Maybe Dawson, maybe. You might not be the traitor you think you are after all."

-----------------------------------

To be continued, I'm sure.

(1)- I'd barely finished writing this sentence when I stopped and asked myself if I could even use it. After all, this takes place in 1943. Would Hogan even know what a remote control is? I figured they existed back then, but you never know... I mean, people still rode around on dinosaurs back then (according to my Grandpa, who claims he rode one to school every day, in five feet of snow, uphill both ways, yada, yada, you've all heard it before). So, I decided to do what I always do when I'm confronted with such a question. I went onto Wikipedia, my favorite site on the internet! I looked up Remote Control and found something quite interesting, as I usually do when I go on Wikipedia. Here's a part of what it said about remote controls:

"The first remote-controlled model aeroplane flew in 1932, and the use of remote control technology for military purposes was worked intensively during the Second World War, one result of this being the German Wasserfall missile."

Interesting. So, of course, I decided to keep that line in.

You can find lots of crazy stuff on Wikipedia... you never know where you'll end up. For instance, I looked up llamas (no particular reason, just because) and I ended up reading about the Black Death. Interestingly enough, in a sort of morbid, horrifying way, during WWII, the Japanese purposefully infected civilians and POWs with the bubonic plague and then cut them up to study how it affected them- sometimes while they were still alive and conscious... wow... I'm glad our heros weren't stationed in the Pacific...

On that happy note (and I'm sorry I've wandered so), I'll leave you until the next chapter.

Later days folks,

Tuttle


	8. The Plan

As I am thoroughly frightened by Hubbles' voodoo dolls, I decided to waste no time in updating. So, here it is, Chapter 8... We _are_ on chapter 8 right... hmm... yes, Chapter 8. It's all coming together folks...

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"So what do you think, Colonel?" Kinch asked at 0910, after the men had given their commanding officers their report.

"Berlin Betty had something to do with this, I just know it!" Hogan replied. Every man had reported that the crew had listened to the radio program and had been adversely affected by it. From what he had read about the crew from the dossiers Kinch had put together from London, none of them seemed capable of committing this sort of treason.

"So what're we going ta do about it guv'nor?" Newkirk asked. He still had a hard time believing that some bird on the radio could do all this. But then again, there was no denying the feelings he had every time he listened to her.

"First things first- I've gotta get out of the cooler. Anderson too."

"Why Anderson, mon colonel?"

"Because I need him to get to Betty." Hogan ignored their curious glances and pressed on- they'd understand later. "Newkirk, you've earned yourself a trip to the cooler."

"What?! Why me?"

"Because you were stealing food from the guards' kitchen, that's why."

Newkirk groaned and threw Hogan a dirty look, but eventually he nodded. "Okay Colonel, I'll do it. But you better not keep me in there too long."

"Don't worry Newkirk," Hogan said with an impish grin. Newkirk wasn't comforted. "Just make sure you make a racket when they bring you in. Kinch, you LeBeau and Carter get ready to listen in on the tap. As soon as Burkhalter and Doctor Kunze arrive, I'm going to get into Klink's office to throw in my two cents and find out why they're coming."

"And then what?"

"And then it all depends on if Doctor Kunze is who and what I think he is."

"And what is that, mon colonel?"

"The evil genius behind Berlin Betty." Hogan didn't wait for any replies. "All right, get to it. I want to be out of the cooler before the hour is up." And with that, Hogan made his way back to his little cell.

"You awake Anderson?" he called when he was safely back inside the cooler.

"Have been for a while. Where'd you run off too?" Anderson had a sneaking suspicion that the colonel wasn't as trapped as the Germans thought he was.

"Been digging out a tunnel with a spoon I snuck in," Hogan shrugged nonchalantly.

Anderson rolled his eyes. "Better get back to it; you said you have to be out of here by noon."

"Actually, my spoon broke, I'm going to have to go with Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Yup." Hogan checked his watch. "In about ten minutes, one of my men is going to come down here-"

"And bust you out? Are you crazy?"

"Hold it. He's not going to bust me out. Shultz is going to let me out."

"Shultz, the guard?"

"Yup."

Anderson was at a loss for words. "You _are_ crazy," he finally managed, shaking his head. "How do you expect to pull that off?"

Hogan grinned and rocked on his heels. "That's where you come in." Anderson answered him with silence. Hogan could picture the incredulous look on his face, which made him smile even more. There was a certain thrill attached to having plan that no one else understood, even when they were right in the middle of it. "Anderson, I need you to pretend to be the traitor the Germans think you are."

"Don't you mean the traitor _you_ think I am," Anderson almost growled.

"Maybe," was all Hogan would give him. "Listen, just play along and we'll both get out of here."

Anderson raised an eyebrow but decided he'd go along with the colonel's hair-brained scheme. Something told him that the colonel had a bit of experience in this sort of thing- and he was still alive. What was the worse that could happen?

True to his word, not more than ten minutes had passed when Anderson and Hogan heard a commotion coming from the end of the hall. The ruckus grew louder and the two prisoners peeked through the slot at the top of their doors to see Shultz leading Newkirk into the cooler.

"'Ey, let go of me Shultzie! I was doing it for you! LeBeau wanted to make strudel!" Newkirk shouted indignantly.

"Newkirk! You will get me in trouble! I don't want your ill-gotten strudel!"

"What's that? You don't want strudel? You feeling okay Shultzie?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Hogan shouted over the pandemonium. "Shultz, what's going on?"

"Newkirk was stealing from the kitchen," the big guard explained.

"It was only a few apples guv'nor," Newkirk defended himself, his tone one of pure innocence.

"I don't care if it was a stick of bubble gum!" Hogan shouted at his corporal. He turned to Shultz. "Put him in Shultz and throw away the key!"

Everyone looked at him in astonishment. Anderson raised an eyebrow. He couldn't see how this was going to get them out. "Throw away the key? Colonel 'ogan! That's a little harsh."

"No, it's what you deserve! Stealing from the Germans. They didn't do anything to you! The Germans are our friends."

Shultz was utterly confused. "Colonel Hogan, are you feeling well?"

"Of course I am Shultz, I've just got a new perspective on things that's all. Captain Anderson has been telling me how wonderful the Germans are."

"Captain Anderson?" Shultz repeated, not sure who Hogan was talking about.

"Yeah, you remember, the one who surrendered. Well, we've been talking and I've gotta say, I agree with him. He did the right thing. Heck, if I could, I'd bust out of here just so I could surrender too!"

"Darn right! Surrendering was the best thing I've ever done! Who wouldn't want to be a prisoner of the Third Reich?!" Anderson inputted cheerfully, catching onto Hogan's madness.

"I just wish we could tell _everyone_ how wonderful the German are so that they could all surrender!" Hogan said with a bright smile. Shultz just looked at him like he had finally lost it.

"But Colonel 'ogan-"

"Quiet you! You're in enough trouble. When you get out, I'll make sure you pay for your crime against the Fatherland!"

Shultz didn't know what to say. He quickly put Newkirk in his cell and ran off down the hall. This he had to report to the Kommandant.

"All right Colonel, I know this is going to help, I just don't know 'ow," Newkirk said from the cell across the hall.

"It's simple Newkirk. Shultz is going to tell Klink and Hochstetter everything that happened down here… except the part that you were stealing apples to give him strudel," he added with a small chuckle.

"How's that going to help?" Anderson asked, completely intrigued. Hogan was crazy, but Anderson was maybe beginning to see a method to his madness.

"Well, if the former commander of the 504th bomber division suddenly turned traitor, don't you think the Nazis would want to extort that… maybe even get me on the radio to tell the allies how 'glorious' the Third Reich is?"

"I don't get it Colonel." Nope. There was no method. And if there was, Anderson found himself unable to follow Hogan's erratic thought pattern.

"Blimey mate, how thick can you be?" Anderson just looked at Newkirk with a raised eyebrow. "Berlin Betty, mate! She's behind all this!"

"Behind all what?" He was in a loony bin.

"This is just a theory of course, but I think that somehow Berlin Betty's broadcasts put it into your head to surrender."

Anderson's heart thumped in his chest. Somehow it made sense and his conscience gave a sigh of relief that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that neither he nor his men were actually responsible for what they had done. But then again… "What makes you think that? How can a radio program do that. I mean, she's not exactly subtle."

"I'm hoping either General Burkhalter or his friend, Doctor Kunze can help me with that."

"Doctor Kunze? Why does that name sound familiar?"

Hogan perked up. "You know him?"

Anderson furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "When we were first, uh, 'captured', they took us to Gestapo HQ in Hammelburg. I heard that major… Hochstetter? Yeah, Major Hochstetter talk about him. He told one of his aides to contact him in Berlin and tell him he had new test subjects for him." Anderson shuddered at the memory of the two Gestapo men talking in front of them, blissfully unaware that Anderson could understand the majority of what they were saying.

The sounds of footsteps echoed through the hallways. "You might just be seeing him sooner than you thought Anderson," Hogan said quietly. A moment later, Shultz appeared. "Hiya Shultz, back so soon?"

"Colonel Hogan, Captain Anderson, Kommandant Klink wants you in his office right away. I am here to escort you."

"'Ey Shultzie, what about me then?"

"Not you Newkirk. You just sit in there and think of the horrible thing you did!" Hogan barked as he stepped out of his open cell and into the hallway. Shultz unlocked Anderson and he joined him. Together, the trio made their way out of the cooler and across the compound until they found themselves inside Klink's office.

"Morning Kommandant, miss me already?" Hogan asked with his usual cheeky cheer.

"Hogan, I called you here because Shultz told me that you agree with the punishment I gave to Corporal Newkirk."

"Yes sir! Newkirk's actions were shameful. Shameful! I'm sure he didn't think that every apple he steals from you, you have to replace and that takes apples away from the average German citizen. It's a crime of epic proportions!"

Klink blinked. Any other time, he would've thought Hogan was kidding- being the pain he usually was. But there was such a forceful conviction in his voice that Klink found himself believing his sincerity.

"Since when do you care about the 'average German citizen'?" Hochstetter growled when Klink remained in awed silence.

"I've always cared about them. I guess I've never really thought much about it though until Captain Anderson here told me why he surrendered." Hochstetter and Klink turned expectantly to the captain. Anderson gulped, hoping he could keep up with whatever game Hogan was playing.

"I told him I just couldn't keep going on dropping bombs on civilians… kids… people who are just like him and me, they just happen to live in another country…"

"That's right! And when he said that I just kept thinking about little Mabel Ann who lived down the street from me and how I'd feel if people were dropping bombs on her, or stealing her apples." Mabel Ann? Eh, sounded good- it got Shultz blubbering anyway. Klink was just dumb-founded. Hochstetter just glared at him suspiciously, eyeing him up and down.

"You were listening to Berlin Betty yesterday, correct?" he asked Hogan.

"Yup. That's where I got this pretty little shiner," Hogan acknowledged, gently indicating his black eye.

Hochstetter scratched his chin thoughtfully. Hogan was full of it- usually. But under the circumstances, he may just be telling the truth. Maybe something, not necessarily Anderson, had prompted him to think of little Mabel Ann. A wicked grin crossed Hochstetter's lips. Yes. So even the great Colonel Hogan was susceptible.

"Shultz, take Hogan and Captain Anderson back to their barracks," Hochstetter ordered.

"Jawohl Herr Major," Shultz said with a salute.

"Just a moment Shultz! Major Hochstetter, I put Hogan and Anderson in the cooler for a reason-" Klink began to protest but quickly stopped after the Gestapo man threw him a death glare. "Of course, I think they've both learned their lesson and they seem to be getting along… Shultz! Escort them to their barracks!!!"

"Thank you for your support Colonel Klink," Hochstetter sneered. "I will be seeing you later Hogan."

"Lucky me," Hogan said with a forced grin and waited until he had left the office before shuddering.

"I'm assuming everything went according to plan in there," Anderson stated as they followed Shultz through the compound.

"You assume correctly." Hopefully, Hogan didn't add. He opened the barracks door and ushered Anderson in. "Later Shultz!" he called, quickly shutting the door behind him. None of his men were in the main room, which meant they were listening in on the tap in his office. He debated for a second whether he should let Anderson in on that little piece of information. After a moment of indecision, he motioned for Anderson to follow him.

Anderson was met with a strange site indeed. Three men were huddled around a coffeepot… that was… speaking? Anderson blinked when he recognized Hochstetter's voice. "Wait a second… is that a tap into Klink's office?" he asked in disbelief.

"Uh-huh… What've we missed Kinch?"

"Nothing much Colonel," Kinch reported. "Hochstetter just placed a call to Berlin."

On cue, Hochstetter spoke a bit louder. "Yes, hello, this is Major Hochstetter! I want you to connect me with Doctor Kunze… What do you mean he is not there?! Never mind! Tell him that he is needed at Stalag 13! Yes, yes… Heil Hitler!"

"Major Hochstetter, who is this Major Kunze?" Klink demanded. "This is my camp, you can't just invite random-"

"KLINK! Shut up! For your information, Doctor Kunze is head of a research project of the Third Reich."

"What sort of research project?" Klink and Hogan asked at the same time.

"That is top secret Klink!" Hochstetter barked.

"I assure you Major Hochstetter, anything you say here will not leave this room." Anderson nearly choked when he heard that. If only he could see what he was seeing!

"Well, you will find out soon enough," Hochstetter conceded. "Very well. Doctor Kunze is working on a project involving subliminal messaging." Again Klink and Hogan were in unison as they repeated what Hochstetter had said. "Yes. I want him to come to assess the effects it's had on the men in the camp- Colonel Hogan in particular."

Hogan furrowed his brow. "All right, turn it off Kinch." The radioman nodded and unplugged the coffeepot. "All right, before anyone can ask, here's the plan. Doctor Kunze is behind whatever is making us go all wacky when we listen to Berlin Betty- subliminal messaging." He glanced around, receiving solemn nods from his men. They each wore troubled looks, each contemplating exactly what Hochstetter had revealed.

"Subliminal messaging… Does that mean they've been brainwashing us?" Cater asked, horrified at the thought. "how can they do that?"

"I don't know. But Doctor Kunze has the answer. I'm going to convince Klink to let me go onto Berlin Betty's radio program so I can tell all the Allies to surrender, yada, yada, you know the drill. Kinch, I want you to sneak along- bring a camera and whatever tools you may need to dismantle a radio. Cater LeBeau, requisition a truck from the motor pool and follow us- at a safe distance… go in uniform as an extra security detail. Get Baker to draw up some orders for you. Carter me boy, get together some explosives."

"Why Colonel?" the young sergeant asked. "Not that I mind of course," he amended hastily.

"Because it's not going to be enough to take out the radio station. We're going to have to get Doctor Kunze and his lab or wherever he's come up with this thing. That way, they won't be able to reproduce… whatever they're using." Hogan scrunched his nose. He didn't like having too many unknowns, but in this situation, he couldn't help it.

"Colonel?" Everyone turned to see Olson poke his head into the room.

"What is it Olson?"

"Burkhalter's staff car just pulled into the compound."

"Thanks Olson." He turned to his men. "All right men, show time. Anderson, come with me." Anderson nodded and followed the colonel as he marched purposefully towards Klink's office.

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That's it! It's all over!!!

Just kidding... HAHA... suckers... No wait, I didn't mean that! I love you all!!!

What? Sayla! How could I have forgotten that episode?! Thanks for reminding me. I am now determined to have a Hogan's Heroes marathon to watch all those great episodes all over again... Hmmm... I guess I didn't need to look it up. However, I did learn something new (as I usually do when I browse through Wikipedia), and that's never a bad thing! Almost never... Where was I?

Oh yes. This chapter was brought to you by Darkwing Duck! I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the Hogan that foils all your plans! I am Darkwing Duck!!! MWAHAHAHA!!!!

Later days folks,

Tuttle


	9. Hiccups

Me again... Tuttle... who else would be writing this CRAAAZY story? Je ne sais pas... (And that ladies and gentlemen is the extent of my French... my poor French Canadien grandparents weep...)

Where was I? Oh yes... Chapter 9! Mwah!!!

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Hogan picked up his pace when General Burkhalter's driver stepped out and opened the passenger door. The guard posted outside Klink's office went to greet them, giving Hogan the opportunity to slip into the outer office unnoticed, Anderson one step behind. He glanced around and picked up a duster and pretended to make himself busy. Anderson caught on and absently started shuffling papers around. Hilda just watched them with carefully hidden amusement.

A moment later, the door burst open and General Burkhalter stepped in with another man. Hogan took a second to assess them. Burkhalter was in his usual sour mood- not at all pleased that he had to come to this particular camp and talk to its bureaucratic, annoying Kommandant. The man behind him, who Hogan could only guess was Doctor Kunze, was half a head taller than the General, lean and handsome. He was not at all what Hogan expected, though he wasn't quite sure what that had been. Doctor Kunze viewed his surroundings intently, taking in every detail and Hogan could see the gears turning in his brain as he analyzed it all.

"General Burkhalter! What a pleasant surprise!" Hogan greeted cheerfully, ignoring the uneasiness he felt as he watched the doctor.

Burkhalter eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing here Colonel Hogan? Cleaning? That is not a duty required of officers, POW or not."

Hogan mentally winced. How did he miss that? "Well, you know the old saying General; cleanliness is next to Godliness. And Klink can use all the help he can get."

Burkhalter snorted in amusement. "Speaking of Klink…" He turned to Hilda. "Hilda, my dear, would you be good enough to introduce us?"

"Of course Herr General," Hilda replied with a flirtatious smile as she stepped away from her desk. Every man in the room watched her as she poked her head into Klink's office and announced the General's arrival. All except Kunze, Hogan noticed, peeling his eyes away from the secretary. A cold chill ran through him- the doctor was watching him and Anderson intently.

"General Burkhalter!" Klink exclaimed, thoroughly surprised when the rotund general barged into his office. "What are _you_ doing here?! And who is with you?" General Burkhalter rolled his eyes in frustration. How stupid could a man be to forget a conversation from only the night before?

"This is Doktor Kunze," Burkhalter said tersely.

"Oh yes! Now I remember. How kind of you to join him. We didn't expect you so soon. Major Hochstetter was just telling me about your work Doctor Kunze. Very ingenious, very-"

"KLINK!" Burkhalter boomed. "In case you haven't noticed, we are not alone!" He gestured to Hogan and Anderson.

"Hogan! What are you doing here? I sent you to your barracks!"

"Did you? Oh, well, when I saw General Burkhalter arrive, I came back." He swivelled on his heels and turned to face the general. "I'd like to lodge a complaint sir."

"Hogan, any complaints you have must be brought to me!" Klink said, shaking his fist. "Now out!"

"But the complaint involves you Herr Kommandant!"

"Me?! What did I do?" Klink asked with a mix of fear and confusion.

"Hogan, I am not interested in your complaints. I don't need you to help me find faults with Klink. I can come up with them on my own. Now go away!" Burkhalter ordered sternly.

Hogan was more than a little surprised. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It never happened like this! He always managed to twist the Germans the way he wanted to get his own way.

He was about to protest, but the look on Burkhalter's face made him think otherwise. The German was in no mood for games- not that he ever was- and Hogan could see he would only end back up in the cooler if he tried anything.

"All right, but if you change your mind, I've got a whole list of reasons to send the colonel to the Eastern Front," Hogan said with fake cheerfulness. "Come on Anderson." He nodded to Anderson and the two quickly exited.

"I take it that didn't go as you planned," Anderson noted, not sure whether he wanted to sound smug or not.

A sour expression darkened the colonel's face. "You take it right Captain," he muttered as he stomped towards the barracks.

"Can I ask what was _supposed_ to happen?"

Hogan paused and scowled. "I was _supposed_ to feed them the same lines I fed Shultz, Klink and Hochstetter. They were _supposed_ to fall for it but Burkhalter didn't really give me a chance to pitch it to them."

"So now what?"

Hogan let out a deep sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The operation is on hold for now until I get an opening." He pushed open the barracks door and looked around until his eyes fell on Olson. "Olson, get the boys together in my office. We've hit a snag."

"Is it bad colonel?"

"Nah, just a little hiccup," he said, trying to assure the sergeant as well as himself. "Get to it. Come on Anderson, let's see what our merry band of Krauts are saying about us behind our backs." Anderson followed Hogan into his office and watched as he plopped into the chair at his desk and connected the coffeepot. Instantly, the room filled with German voices.

"As I said before," Klink was saying, "I am delighted you are both here. Major Hochstetter was just telling me about your work Dr. Kunze. Subliminal messaging he said. That is very ingenious-"

"Klink, shut up. You don't even know what you are talking about," Burkhalter growled. "I came here after you told me your radio broke down." Hogan held his breath as he heard Klink start to proclaim his ignorance of that but Burkhalter quickly continued. "I wanted to explain to you just why that program is so important."

"Oh, you don't need to explain it to me, General Burkhalter. I understand completely."

"No you don't!"

"Yes sir, no I don't."

"Shut up Klink," Hochstetter yelled.

"Oh shut up all of you!" came a deep voice that Hogan assumed was Dr. Kunze. There was a tense silence before the doctor continued. "You are all acting like children. None of you understand it! And that is the way it should be. But just for my own amusement, and just to humour you as well, I will try to explain it- using small words."

Hogan blinked. The doctor was certainly gutsy to talk to Burkhalter and especially Hochstetter like that. But then again, neither the General nor the Gestapo major would dare retaliate against such an important man. Hogan peered at the door as it opened to reveal Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and an escaped Newkirk. He raised an eyebrow, but Newkirk just shrugged. Matching the gesture, Hogan turned back to the coffeepot, his ears tuned to the sound of Kunze's voice.

"Several months ago, I began work on a new project that would help undermine the Allied war effort- subliminal messaging. Subliminal messaging means a message is hidden in an object, or in this case, sound, that is not detectable by the conscious mind, but rather the subconscious." There was a pause, then Kunze let out a deep sigh. "Never mind. I see small words would be useless. The point is, I've been able to lace Berlin Betty's broadcasts with hidden messages- delivered at a high frequency so it penetrates the subconscious, but is otherwise unnoticed. So far, it seems to be effective as it has already caused one bomber crew to defect."

"Ah, that is very ingenious! But I don't understand why my prisoners must listen to it?"

"Every time a prisoner escapes, it ties up resources until they are caught," Burkhalter explained. "In subjecting them to these messages, we hope they will become content with their lot as POW and stay put."

"Prisoners are of little importance to me," Kunze stated coldly. "They can tie up all the resources they want. We won't need as many resources anyway as long as their comrades who are still able to fight listen to the program. That is why Berlin Betty plays the decadent music she does- so the Allies will listen to it despite her propaganda. And while they are dancing to Glenn Miller and the like, they are inundated with my messages.

"Major Hochstetter, I believe you have the bomber crew that surrendered to the Third Reich. Since I am here, I see no need to wait until you have brought them to Berlin to interrogate them. I'd like to find out how effective my programming was."

"Of course Herr Doktor. But while you are at it, I would like you to interrogate one of the prisoners here as well- Colonel Hogan."

"The American that was just in here? Why?"

"Colonel Hogan has shown signs that he has also been affected by Berlin Betty's broadcasts."

"Hogan? Really?" Burkhalter was clearly intrigued. Klink was more than happy to update him on Hogan's behaviour and attitudes. Burkhalter let out a little belly laugh. "Well this is indeed a welcome surprise. The great Colonel Hogan, who practically bleeds red, white and blue, has turned to the Fatherland!" Hogan shivered and absently scratched his side at that. Anderson noticed but did little more than raise an eyebrow at Hogan's discomfort.

Silence. "How many times has Colonel Hogan listened to the program?" Kunze asked slowly. He didn't sound too convinced.

"Only once. The radio broke during the first session."

More silence. Hogan couldn't help but feel nervous. "He is an incredibly stupid man then," Kunze concluded. Hogan grimaced at the insult.

"I assure you Dr. Kunze, Hogan may be a little insane, but he is not stupid!" Hochstetter barked. Hogan was taken aback by the unlikely defence. "He is the most dangerous man in Germany! I believe he is behind the extensive sabotage in this area and many other strange occurrences!"

"Dr. Kunze, may I point out that Major Hochstetter has never been able to back up those claims with any proof!" Klink said nervously.

"Well, all things considered then, there are four possibilities… First, Hogan is indeed stupid enough to be affected by my messages after only one session. Second, that wasn't his first time listening to it, which means he has a hidden radio. Third, Hogan has always had pro-German sentiments and so it didn't take much for the messaging to affect him. Or fourth, he is pulling the wool over your eyes in an attempt to pull of one of his alleged sabotage exploits." Hogan paled at the last possibility. He was really starting the hate this Dr. Kunze. The man was a lot smarter than Hogan liked. Of course, he'd have to be to come up with something this sinister and make it work.

"I can assure you it's not the first or the third. Your other two suggestions, however, have merit. Klink! Have a guard search Hogan's barracks for any hidden radios immediately!" Burkhalter barked.

"Yes sir! Shultz!"

"On second thought… Major Hochstetter, have one of your men do the honour!"

Hogan ripped the wire out of the coffeepot and jumped to his feet. "Newkirk, down in the tunnel and get back to solitary," he barked. "LeBeau, dig out a radio and 'hide' it. Carter, Kinch, spread the word to Anderson's men- tell them it's okay to co-operate with Kunze. But tell them that if asked, it was all Anderson's idea. All right, move." His men threw him quick salutes and rushed out to complete their tasks. Hogan turned to Anderson, an apologetic look on his face. "Anderson, I hate to break up our budding friendship, but I need to ask you to-"

The captain held up his hand and stopped him mid-sentence. "Don't worry about my feelings. I'll play along. What's the plan?"

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I tossed and turned with this chapter for a while- ever since I knew I'd be introducing Doctor Kunze. I really wasn't sure how I was going to do it... but here it is. He's nice and sinister. MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!

All righty...

An interesting fact for y'all, thanks to my random research on Wikipedia:

Zeppo Marx (the 'straight' man of the group) "owned a company which machined parts for the war effort during World War II including the Marman clamps used to hold the Hiroshima bomb inside the Enola Gay".

Crazy!

You've learned something new. now you can go to sleep in peace!

Later days,

Tuttle


	10. Smart and Suspicious

Howdy folks. Me, Tuttle again. Here it is, the next chapter. Hope you like it.

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Colonel Hogan marched out of his office just in time to see two hulking SS guards burst into the tiny barracks. He made eye contact with LeBeau who nodded ever so gently. Hogan acknowledged and put on a surprised face.

"Hey, hey, hey!!! What's going on here?!" Hogan demanded of the two guards. They ignored him and immediately set to work tearing the prisoners' humble abode apart. "Hey! We just made our bunks!" he cried when one guard overturned a few mattresses. "You wouldn't have to make such a mess if you just told us what you're looking for!" One guard shot him a dirty look, which was promptly returned, before going back to his task. A dark smile played on the guard's lip when he kicked over the basket holding firewood.

"I am looking for this," he sneered smugly, as he raised a small radio triumphantly.

"Well, I'll be. Where'd that come from?" Hogan asked innocently, rocking on his heels.

"Silence," the SS guard barked. "You will come with us!"

"Thanks, but no thanks; I should help my men clean up the mess you made."

The guard was not amused. Without saying a word, he motioned to his partner, who grabbed Hogan by the arm. Clutching the precious contraband and their prisoner, the two guards left. Anderson followed them to the door and made sure it was tightly shut before turning to Hogan's men. He looked around the room and pointed to LeBeau.

"You, Shorty, get over here."

LeBeau grimaced slightly at the nickname, but did as he was told and came up beside the captain. "Oui, Capitan?"

"Get down in that tunnel of yours and get me some explosives. They need to be small enough for the colonel and I to carry around without anyone noticing. Preferably time delayed if you can swing it. And get me a small tool kit too that I can put on my belt."

"What's the plan Captain?" Olsen asked.

"Well, that colonel of yours has cooked up a real humdinger. You men are to stay here." There's no point in them getting killed as well, he thought as he reflected back on Hogan's plan. "Hogan and I will infiltrate the radio station and see what we can do." He glanced at LeBeau. "Get going, I don't know how much time I have before the Krauts come for me too."

"Oui! I will go get Carter and see what we can find for you." Throwing the captain a salute, the French corporal ran out of the barracks in search of the group's demolitions expert.

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Colonel Hogan knew from the moment he walked into the tiny room that he had to tread carefully.

Doctor Kunze was sitting at Klink's desk, a heavy folder in his hands, nonchalantly reading the papers within. He didn't even glance up as he motioned Hogan to sit and dismissed the guards.

Hogan hesitated and sat down, watching the German doctor carefully. He was smart, he knew that. And that made him dangerous. A wave of nervousness washed over the American colonel. He'd been dealing with incompetent enemies for so long, he briefly wondered if he could handle a worthy opponent for once.

He quickly pushed the thought aside. Of course he could handle it.

Most Germans fell into three groups. The first was made up of those too gullible or stupid to know they were being manipulated- Klink was a happy member of this group. The second group were those who wanted to defect or co-operate. The third included Doctor Kunze. It was a rare group. These Germans were smart. But their intelligence brought a fatal weakness- arrogance.

Yes, arrogance would be Doctor Kunze's undoing. He'd boast and brag about how superior he was and how his project would bring an end to the Allied efforts. Then he'd give Hogan the opportunity to see how great he and his project was. Hogan smiled as he saw the whole scenario play out in his head. It'd had happened to many a Germans before- General Biedenbender came to mind- and it would happen to this one as well.

But that didn't mean Hogan could get cocky too. He had to be careful, very careful. Kunze didn't know that he knew about the radio broadcasts and he couldn't afford to give Kunze any reason to think otherwise. Time and time again, he had told his men not to pad their parts. Hogan had to follow his own advice now.

Kunze knew what messages had been sent over the radio. Hogan couldn't just spout off Nazi dogma to make Kunze believe he had been affected. If none of the messages had contained that sort of tripe, then Kunze would know he was faking and then he'd be in trouble. It was best to just stick to the truth. If Kunze asked, Hogan would tell him how the broadcasts had really made him feel- guilty. Guilty for bombing all those innocent civilians. Guilty for hurting or killing people whose only fault was speaking a different language, living in a different country and who, unfortunately, had a psycho running the government.

"Major Hochstetter seems to have an unhealthy obsession with you Colonel Hogan," Kunze remarked, a slightly humorous tone in his voice. He still didn't look at the colonel as he gazed at the papers in his hand.

"Well, we're old friends," Hogan replied wryly.

Kunze grunted. "He was kind enough to show me his 'little' dossier he has compiled on you. Seems he carries it around with him wherever he goes. " That was a little unsettling. Of course, Hochstetter _was_ crazy. "He has many interesting theories about your activities as a POW."

"Really?"

"Seems a hidden radio is the least of your transgressions."

"In theory."

"Yes, yes, in theory." Kunze threw the folder onto the desk and for the first time, looked at Hogan. Hogan fought the urge to squirm under the doctor's keen eyes. The urge grew when he saw the doctor smirk. Dang, he hated smart Germans.

"I am a scientist Colonel Hogan. And that means I explore every avenue, every hypothesis, before I rule it out- the scientific process." He glanced back at the dossier and smirked. "I have already ruled out many of Major Hochstetter's accusations- they are far to ludicrous to be true." It was Hogan's turn to smirk, though he hid it. Ludicrous maybe, but probably close to the truth considering all the things he had accomplished as Papa Bear. "But until proven wrong, I am not going to disregard everything in here.

"You are a very smart man Colonel Hogan-"

"Thanks!" Hogan said brightly, trying to defuse his own unease. Kunze ignored him and grabbed the dossier, looking over it again. There were a few minutes of silence.

"And if even half of this is true, then it would be safe to assume that you have contacts with the outside. And if you have contacts, then it's also safe to assume that you know exactly who and what I am."

"Don't flatter yourself doctor." You conceited S.O.B.

Kunze ignored the unspoken insult that was flashing in Hogan's eyes. "How do you feel about being a POW, Colonel Hogan?"

"What do you mean?" Hogan asked cautiously.

"Well, it says here, you were the commander of the 504th bomber division. It must be very frustrating now to be so helpless when you once commanded such an important outfit." Hogan said nothing, waiting to see where Kunze would go with this.

"Annoying- those day-light bombings of yours. It's enough to make someone go insane… Being bombed by day and bombed by night."

"We aim to please," Hogan smiled.

"I remember one time, we had to evacuate my lab. Came out into the street and the orphanage across the way had been bombed." Kunze smirked when Hogan visibly paled. "Fortunes of war I suppose."

"We don't target civilians you know," Hogan protested, his stomach knotting at the thought.

"Of course you do. You don't really think that you can bomb a city without killing civilians. Have you ever thought that that's what you did- killed innocent civilians?"

Hogan shrugged, feeling decidedly sick. "Not until recently, no. I was just doing my job."

"And what made you sudden attack on conscience?"

"I suppose being here, getting to know you Germans is part of it… But… I don't know. Recently, I just feel, guilty about everything I've done."

"Interesting." Kunze paused and briefly looked back on the folder. "Tell me, on that secret radio of yours, what did you listen to?"

"Oh, the usual. We catch the BBC when we can- but being homemade, our radio doesn't have the greatest receiver. Sometimes we have to settle with local stations."

"Local stations? You speak German?"

"Only enough to get my face slapped. Not all stations here are in German though. Axis Annie and Berlin Betty, they're in English."

"I am well aware of that. Do you listen to them often?" Hogan shrugged in reply. Kunze studied him thoughtfully for a moment. "I think you have."

"And what makes you think that?" Hogan asked.

Kunze just waved his hand in the air and quickly changed the subject. "What do you think of Captain Anderson and his crew?"

Hogan tensed. He had to be careful here. _Truth. Stick to the truth Rob ol' boy. You can't afford to pad your part with this guy_. "He's a traitor, of course… but at the same time, I understand why he did it."

"Really? And why did he surrender?"

"You'll have to ask him that. But from what he told me, he couldn't go on dropping bombs on civilians. I can't say I blame him."

"And if you were still flying, would you follow his example?"

Hogan pretended to mull it over in his head. He had to make this sound realistic, or Kunze would never believe him. "No. If I were still flying, I'd still be the commander of the 504th. I could do more good there than I could here. Perhaps ensure that heavily-populated cities weren't bombed… something. Of course, if I'd never been shot down, never got to know you Germans, I probably wouldn't have even thought of it."

"Fair enough. But in your present situation, would you be willing to help stop the slaughter of innocents?"

"If I could, yes. But I don't see how."

"The radio, Colonel Hogan. You could broadcast to your men in England over the radio."

"Gee, really? That'd be swell!"

Kunze grinned. "Yes, that would be 'swell' wouldn't it." His grin broadened and became a laugh. "Oh Colonel Hogan, you are too much." Hogan just raised his eyebrow. "Hogan, I told you, I don't believe half the stuff in Major Hochstetter's file on you. But I can't ignore all the strange occurrences that have happened around this camp- including the unfortunate deaths of many of my scientific colleagues."

"I don't see what this has to do with going on the radio."

"I did not get where I am by being stupid and careless with security. Berlin Betty and every other radio program are very important to the Fatherland and our efforts. To put it simply Colonel, I don't trust you-"

"What? With this face?"

"And because I don't trust you, I am not letting you within a mile of my project and my radio station."

Hogan's face fell. Well… that was… unexpected. It was official. He definitely didn't like Doctor Kunze. "A suspicious lot, you Krauts."

"Yes, perhaps. But that is why we're winning the war."

"Well, if you change your mind about using me, you know where to find me! Can I be excused now?"

"Of course, Colonel. Kommandant Klink is in the outer office. I am sure he would like to have a word with you about your hidden radio."

"I can't wait," Hogan grimaced as he stood up and left the office. Just as Kunze had said, Klink was waiting in the outer office. "Kommandant," he greeted with a sloppy salute.

"Hogan!" Klink yelled.

"Yes? Something wrong Kommandant?"

"Yes there is something wrong! What were you doing with a radio?!"

"It was a birthday present from my great-grandma. I couldn't bear to part with it."

"Silence! I warn you Hogan, I will find out where that radio came from and when I do, the consequences will be severe! 30 days in the cooler for you!"

"30 days! That's a little harsh! I just spent time in the cooler!"

"Humph! You're lucky you didn't get shot! Believe me, Major Hochstetter wanted to shoot you. If General Burkhalter hadn't been here, he would've and I wouldn't have been able to stop him!"

"Wouldn't have been able to stop him?! I'm _your_ prisoner Kommandant! You can't just let the Gestapo come in here and take over!"

Klink took that in with a nod. "You're right. You are my prisoner. Shultz!"

"Ja, Herr Kommandant?"

"Take Hogan to the cooler! 30 days!"

"Thanks a lot!" Hogan pouted as Shultz led him out. Anderson was being led to Klink's office by two SS guards. Noting the sour expression on Hogan's face, Anderson raised an eyebrow and glanced at his escorts.

Hogan clenched his fists. He needed to talk to Anderson, but that didn't seem likely considering the two hulking SS guards flanking him. What he really needed was a diversion. Now!

In answer to his prayer, a fight suddenly broke out nearby. Hogan glanced over to see a big group of prisoners engaging in a fist fight. Kinch was standing nearby and nodded to the colonel. A few of the camp guards, including Shultz, ran over to put a stop to it, but they were sucked in. As the ruckus grew, Anderson's escorts stopped and hesitated. Then they also went to join the fray. Hogan took the opportunity and ran up to Anderson.

"I heard most of your conversation Colonel. What's going on? Are you getting into the station."

"No!" Hogan snapped.

"What?! You said it was fool-proof? How'd you goof it up?"

Hogan shot him a look that would give the devil pause. "_I_ didn't goof up! Listen, we don't have time to argue! You're going to have to go at it alone."

"What?! I don't even know what the hey I'm looking for!"

"That makes two of us. Listen, it'll be simple-"

"Oh sure! Just like your plan to manipulate Kunze and that was a total bust."

"All right, calm down Captain, and that's an order. I'll try my best to get out of the cooler and follow you. But if I can't I need you to do it or else we'll have bomber crews surrendering right and left."

"And what makes you think Kunze will let me go on the radio?"

"Because, a bona fide traitor like you is too golden to pass up. Besides, he knows we aren't very fond of each other-" he indicated his still black eye- "so there's little chance you're in cahoots with me as far as he's concerned."

"All right, I'll do it. But this better work. So far, you haven't exactly been batting a thousand."

"Don't remind me."

Suddenly, gunshots filled the air. Hogan's chest tightened as he whirled around to face the other prisoners. Relief washed over him when he saw the guards' guns pointed into the air and not at his men. "Hey, hey, hey!" he yelled, running over. "Be careful with those things! You could shoot someone's eye out!"

"Silence! Everyone back into their barracks! No more fighting!"

"You heard the Kraut! Back in your barracks!" Hogan ordered. The crowd murmured but complied with their commanding officer. The two SS guards went back to Anderson and hauled him into Klink's office. Hogan watched him go and threw him a reassuring look. Anderson just grimaced. Hogan let out a deep sigh and turned to Shultz. "Come on Shultz, I've got 30 days to serve. The sooner I start, the sooner I'll be out."

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Oh Hogan, you're just having bad luck right and left.

Hubbles! You evil person! I give up! Stop with the voodoo dolls! I know they're behind my sore back and neck!!!

Eh-huh! I was watching Hogan's Heroes the other day for the first time in a month or so. I LOVE COLONEL HOGAN! "By George, this sounds important!" to an idea _he_ planted in Klink's head! MWAHA! "One question, how do we steal the bomber?" "Routine." Like, duh! Mwahaha! Colonel Hogan is an evil, evil genius! I love him!

Okay, okay, enough of that.

Today's chapter was brought to you by Voodoo Be Gone. Have you ticked off a witch doctor lately? Afraid you're being voodooed? Never fear, Voodoo Be Gone is here! Take one pill and you'll never have to worry about that old black magic! Warning, side effects include- death, coma or a strange craving for poisoned Oreos...


	11. Berlin Bound

Hot on the heels of Chapter 10 (hey what else am I going to do when I'm laid up with a bad back), I present the next Chapter- Berlin Bound!!!

As always, I don't own Hogan's Heroes, though I wish I did. Sadly, it belongs to Bing Crosby Productions. Ol' Big Ears has all the luck.

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With an apologetic look, Shultz shooed Hogan into his cell and locked the door. Hogan let out a sigh of relief. The cell had an entrance to the tunnel. Finally _something_ had gone right. Hogan was getting sick of bad luck and sick of having his plans go awry. Though, if he took a minute to look at the whole situation, it would probably do him good in the long run. He was too use to having things go exactly how he wanted. A little trouble now and then kept him from getting too cocky.

"Newkirk, you there?" Hogan called, not bothering to wait until Shultz had left.

"Of course he is there! Where else would he be?" Shultz demanded.

Hogan shrugged. "Maybe he went for a walk."

"Ha, jolly joker! I'll show you Newkirk is here!" Shultz lumbered over to Newkirk's cell and peeked inside. He stuttered in disbelief and Hogan had to hide a smile. "Newkirk?! Newkirk where are you?! Colonel Hogan! Newkirk is gone!!!"

"Eh? What's that you say Shultzie? I'm not gone. I've been 'ere the 'ole bleeding time!" Newkirk's voice came from a cell further down the hall.

"Bu-b-but, I thought I put you in _this_ cell!"

"You've gone 'round the bend Shultzie! You put me in 'ere!"

Shultz paused and tried to figure it out in his head. He was _sure_ he put Newkirk in the cell in front of him. But then, if he did, how did he end up in the cell down the hall? No. No! He wasn't going to think about it. He didn't want to know the answer. "I know nothing, I know nothing!" he finally said before he marched out of the cooler.

"Sorry 'bout that Colonel. I forgot which cell I was supposed to be in!"

"Just be thankful it was Shultz and not one of Hochstetter's men!"

"Thank 'eaven for small miracles guv'nor. 'Ey, wait a minute. What are you doing back in 'ere? I thought you were supposed to be in Berlin taking out that radio station."

Hogan grimaced. "We've hit a pot hole." He checked his watch. "All right Newkirk, let's get down in the tunnel and into the barracks."

"You got a back-up plan then?"

"Always." And with that, Hogan lowered himself into the tunnel. Newkirk appeared a moment later and the two of them made their way to the entrance of barracks two. After using their signals to make sure the coast was clear, the two Allies climbed up the ladder. Kinch, Carter and LeBeau met them at the top.

"We heard your conversation with Kunze Colonel," Kinch said as a greeting. "Bad luck that."

"No good can come of a smart Kraut. Thanks for that diversion by the way."

"Well, when we heard your plan get shot down, we figured you'd want to update Anderson and you couldn't do that if he had two big Krauts guarding him."

"What is the plan mon colonel? How are we going to get to Berlin?"

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself and began to pace. He always did his best thinking when he paced. Suddenly, he stopped and snapped his fingers. "Olsen, Fuller, get over here." Sergeant Olsen and the English private Fuller came to his side. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's hat and shoved it into Fuller's hands. "Congratulations Fuller, you are now a corporal. Olsen-" he took off his own cap and bomber jacket and handed it to the sergeant- "you're now a colonel! But don't let the power go to your head. You'll be staying in the cooler for the majority of your promotion."

"What's this all about colonel?" Olsen asked as he put on the colonel's jacket. He briefly wondered why the man insisted on wearing it, even in the dead of summer.

"Klink has been kind enough to give me an excuse not to show up at roll call. Newkirk and I are going to go to Berlin with Anderson and his crew." If Anderson even went, he didn't add. "Olsen, Fuller, you'll make appearances in the cooler, just so the guards don't think we've flown the coop."

"Sir, what if, for some reason, they want to haul you out of the cooler?"

Hogan shot Olsen a dirty look. "Knock on wood and wash your mouth out with soap Sergeant!" he barked. "Enough things have gone wrong already!!!" Just for good measures, he knocked on the table himself and was happy to note that most the other men did too. Good. They were covered.

Hopefully.

"Carter, fix me up with some explosives. Newkirk, we'll need uniforms."

"What are you cookin' up Colonel?" Newkirk asked.

"We're going to go out with Anderson and his crew- we'll be the drivers."

"Are you crazy?!… sir? Drive that ruddy truck out of the gates, with Kunze and maybe the General or Hochstetter leading the way."

Hogan scowled. Things had not been going his way lately and he certainly didn't need Newkirk questioning him right now… but then again with the way things had been going, maybe he did. "It'll be all right," he decided finally. "The Krauts will only see what they expect to see. We'll just keep our heads down. Don't give me that look! We have to go! Anderson can't pull this off by himself! It'll be all right."

"If you say so Colonel." The colonel always pulled through, eventually. Everything would work out in the end.

"LeBeau, monitor the conversations in Klink's office. When Kunze gets to the last man, tell me and Newkirk and I will sneak into the motor pool. Kinch, get down to the switchboard. Intercept Klink's orders for a truck."

"You've got it Colonel."

"All right, let's get going!" Hogan hit the bunk to open the tunnel entrance and climbed down, followed by Kinch, Carter and Newkirk. Fuller and Olsen appeared a moment later and scurried towards the cooler.

As his men went about their tasks Hogan paced. This was it. This would be the riskiest part of this mission so far and if his bad luck didn't let up, it could cost them the whole operation. Hogan wondered if this one mission was worth it.

Shaking his head quickly, Hogan banished the thought. Doubts led to mistakes and he couldn't afford any.

He had worn a nice trench in the floor when LeBeau hollered down the tunnel.

"He's interviewing Anderson now, mon colonel. So far, Kunze wants to send his men to Berlin to talk on the radio."

"Good work. All right Newkirk, let's get ready." Newkirk handed him an outfit and he quickly put it on. After checking himself in the mirror to make sure he looked properly German, he turned to Kinch, waiting impatiently for Klink's call. "Carter?" he called down the tunnel. A moment later Carter poked his head into the room.

"Yes Colonel?"

"Have you got those bombs ready?"

"Yeah, right here. There's only three of them- I gave the rest to Captain Anderson." Carter handed Hogan the small charges.

"Kinda small, you sure they'll work?" Hogan asked as he inspected the pen-like objects in his hand.

"You bet your boots they will boy! Uh, sir!" Carter felt a little insulted, but covered it with boundless enthusiasm. "They're probably some of my best. See, they're small enough to hide in your pocket, but they'll make a big boom!" He took one from the colonel and held it up. "To activate it, just twist the bottom here, see. Each notch represents about ten minutes-"

"About ten minutes?"

"More or less," Carter replied, unfazed by Hogan's arched eyebrow. "You can set it up to an hour."

"Thanks Carter."

"Uh, Colonel, is there any way I could go along maybe?" Carter asked hopefully. He was never one to turn down a good explosion.

"Sorry Carter. Besides, you already got to blow up a munitions factory. What more could you want?"

"I guess you're right," Carter sighed.

"Don't worry Andrew, one explosion is just the same as the next."

Carter's eyes grew wide. "How could you say that?!" he gasped. "Why, every explosion-"

"Save it Carter," Hogan interrupted. A second later, Kinch sprung to life and picked up his hand set.

"This is the call Colonel," he explained. "Ja, dis is da motor pool. Jawohl, right away. Ve vill have a truck with drivers standing by. Ja, ja, Heil Hitler." Kinch turned in his seat and looked up at the colonel. "It's all set. I'll phone the motor pool and tell them that Klink is sending two drivers to pick up a car." Hogan sighed with relief. He had half-expected Hochstetter to volunteer his Gestapo guards as drivers. That would've been keeping with his bad luck after all.

"Okay Newkirk, this is it. Kinch, hold down the fort." And with that, Hogan marched off towards the motor pool.

Getting topside was a little dodgy, especially since it was daylight. The tunnel entrance was in the dog pound, only a short jaunt from the motor pool.

Hogan carefully lifted the dog house that covered the entrance and peeked out. So far, so good. There wasn't a Kraut in sight. He had been tempted to plan another diversion, but eventually had decided it wasn't necessary. Besides, another diversion was risky considering how many they had used in the last day or so.

Heidi, one of the friendlier German shepherds in the camp, ambled up and started to sniff at the curiously raised house. Hogan scrunched his nose and shooed her away. Taking one last look, Hogan decided it was safe and hoisted himself up onto the ground. He huddled behind the dog house and waited for Newkirk to follow. When the corporal was up, the two practically flew out of the enclosure and hotfooted it to the motor pool.

"We're here to pick up the truck Kommandant Klink requested," Hogan explained in perfect German to one of the guards. The guard nodded and let them in. Hogan mentally sighed with relief, but kept his exterior appearance calm and relaxed- or at least, as calm and relaxed as a German soldier was allowed to be.

"So far, so good," Newkirk whispered as they hopped into the cab of a truck.

"Yeah, for now," Hogan muttered under his breath.

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Anderson stepped out of the interrogation feeling somewhat triumphant. He had succeeded where the colonel had failed. He and his men would be on their way to Berlin to broadcast to the Allies on Berlin Betty's radio program.

As he and his men were led to a transport, Anderson cast a wary glance towards the cooler. As much as he liked having one over on the colonel, he felt himself wishing that Hogan was here right now. Not that the colonel's plans had gone well so far. But it would've still been nice to know that he wasn't the only fool crazy enough to go through with this mission. How had the colonel managed to survive all these years?

Anderson climbed into the back of the truck and threw Private Jenkins, who was shaking like a leaf, a reassuring look. He studiously avoided contact with Dawson. Though he knew, provided this whole thing with Berlin Betty was true, that Dawson wasn't totally to blame, he still felt a bitter sort of anger towards the corporal. After all, if it hadn't been for him, none of them would be in this mess.

Anderson slid a glance towards the guards that had joined them in the back of the truck. Trying to act nonchalant, he reached his hand into his coat pocket and thumbed the small, pen-sized explosives that Hogan's men had given him. The guard seemed to notice so, slowly, he pulled out a cigarette he also had tucked away in there. He searched for the lighter in his trouser pocket, at the same time, making sure his tools were securely fastened to his belt and lit his smoke.

Settling against the canvas of the truck, Anderson prepared himself for the long trek to Berlin.

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Finally, something has gone right for our intrepid hero... the question is, will it stay that way? MWAHAHAHA... o.O you never know...

Hey! Did anyone ever notice that Carter wears a wedding ring?! The explaination being that the actor, Larry Hovis, refused to take it off (AWWWW!!! So awesome! The romantic in me sighs in content). Of course... that doesn't explain why _Carter_ wears it... hmmmm...

Smack, smack, smack...

Sorry, was overcome by an unusually high amount of insanity for a moment there.

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Later days,

Tuttle


	12. A Quiet Trip

I'm alive!!!

Bet I had you all worried there for a while. Thought I might've fallen down a well. A frozen well. What? You didn't? You just think I'm lazy? Sir, that is a stain upon my honor! I challenge you to a duel! Smack, smack, smack. Pistols! Pwing! Augh! I'm dying!

o.O! Okay, enough of that. Anywho, the next chapter is up, sorry for the delay. Enjoy.

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He shouldn't have been surprised. After all, if this was any other mission, this would be considered situation normal. However, Colonel Hogan couldn't help but be surprised that everything was going according to plan. They had stopped at several checkpoints and so far, had managed to get through every one without so much as a second glance. Of course, it helped that Major Hochstetter had come along. Hogan nearly laughed as that thought passed through his mind. He never thought he'd be grateful for the ornery Gestapo man. But it was true. As soon as he flashed his papers and was identified as Gestapo, no one wanted to detain him.

"We're not going to drive _all_ the way to Berlin? Are we?" Newkirk asked.

"You better hope so!" Hogan growled.

"Why's that?"

"Well, we either drive, or we take the train." Hogan shivered at the thought. At the moment, Hogan and Newkirk were relatively safe. They were alone in the cab of the truck and anyone who might recognize them were either behind them or in the car in front of them. But if they took a train, they'd be in tight quarters with the rest of the party. Lucky for them, the train station in Düsseldorf was still out of commission.

"Colonel I thought of something. Hochstetter wanted to take these chaps to every prison camp along the way. You still think he plans on doing it."

"I doubt it. After the reception they received at Stalag 13, they'll probably want to get Anderson and his men on the radio first- just in case they aren't so kindly treated in another camp."

"I suppose you're right guv'nor."

"I better be," Hogan muttered. "Aw hell." The car in front of them was slowing down for yet another checkpoint. Hogan watched as a soldier marched up to the window and started speaking to the driver. From the way he stepped back a moment later, Hogan was sure he'd just been threatened by Hochstetter. However, he wasn't thoroughly intimidated, for a moment later, he was collecting papers from the car. The checkpoint guard carefully studied their papers and then marched to the truck. Hochstetter jumped out and followed.

Newkirk shot Hogan a nervous glance. Hogan just nodded and winked, trying to cast the illusion that he had everything under control. The truth was something entirely different. He wanted to throw up as the guard and Hochstetter approached. He ducked his head down and tried to look calm when they came to his door.

"Out of the truck and show me your papers," the guard demanded.

Hogan was about to demand an explanation but caught himself before he opened his mouth. His current disguise was that of a lowly corporal. He was in no position to make demands. Keeping his head down and slightly away from Hochstetter, Hogan jumped out of the cab, followed by Newkirk, who was also trying to act inconspicuous. They both handed over their papers, and the guard reviewed them intently. He then turned to the Gestapo major.

"Can you vouch for these men Herr Major?"

"BAH!" Hochstetter growled. "We are in a hurry! We do not have time for this!!!"

"I'm sorry Herr Major, but it was reported that some prisoners from Stalag 18 stole a truck much like this one and we have to make sure they didn't sneak behind you. Are you sure-"

"You imbecile, there is only one truck here and it is the one that had been behind us the whole time!!!"

"And these men, they are the ones you left camp with."

"Of course!"

"And their names, Herr Major?" Hogan shot his gaze upwards. He hated thorough and suspicious Krauts.

"How should I know?! They are Klink's men! I have had enough of this foolishness! Back into the truck!" Hogan fought the urge to fly back into the cab as Hochstetter ordered. Instead, he very calmly gave a salute and turned. Hochstetter paid him no mind as he turned back to the checkpoint guard. "I admire your thoroughness, but you should save it for others- not the Gestapo! Now, we will go to the back of the truck to make sure we have all our prisoners. No more, no less."

Hogan climbed back into the cab with Newkirk and listened as Hochstetter shouted at the prisoners behind them. A few moments later, Hochstetter was marching back to his car and the guard made his way back to his outpost. The car ahead pulled forward and Hogan let out a sigh of relief as he followed.

"Thank 'eaven for Hochstetter," Newkirk muttered. Hogan just grunted in reply. He didn't want to admit the fact that Hochstetter's anger and impatience had probably saved their lives. Especially since the name on his papers read Corporal Hoganmuffer- that would've gone over well if Hochstetter had read that.

The rest of their trip was thankfully uneventful. Another hour or so passed before they finally reached the outskirts of Berlin. Soon they were in the heart of the city- the heart of the lions' den.

Hogan shook his head. He'd been here plenty of times. This time would be no different. His plan would work, they always did… except for recently that is…

"There's the radio station up ahead Colonel," Newkirk said, pointing at the darkened city street to a large building up ahead. Sure enough, Hochstetter's car pulled up and stopped. Hogan manoeuvred the truck behind it and shut it off.

"Show time. Remember, keep your head down and your mouth shut."

"Right. Just one question: how are you planning on blowing this place up?!"

"I don't know, I'm making this up as I go. Come on." And with that, Hogan slid out of the cab and marched towards the back of the truck, Newkirk in tow. The other two guards in the back jumped out and together, the four of the herded the prisoners forward.

"You," Hochstetter said, pointing to Newkirk as he came up to the group. Newkirk snapped to attention. "Stay with the truck out here."

"Jawohl Major!" Newkirk said gruffly, tugging his helmet lower. Hochstetter turned on his heel and marched into the building, flanked by Kunze and his guards.

The light went on in Hogan's head. Ideas swirled around and quickly built themselves into a plan. He smiled, mentally thanking Hochstetter- again! If Hochstetter kept this up, Hogan would have a hard time hating him as much as he did. "Newkirk," Hogan whispered as the other guards led the prisoners forward, "keep an eye out for Kunze. If he comes out, follow him. Here-" Hogan handed Newkirk two of his explosives- "take these. Got a gun?"

Newkirk nodded. "We're offing him then?"

"We have to. Listen, I don't know how this is going to play out, but I doubt Kunze is going to come back with us. He probably has a lab here in Berlin. I want you to follow him to it and blow it sky high. If you have to stay behind to do it that's fine- contact the underground and get back to Stalag 13 as soon as possible."

"You sure about this Colonel?" Newkirk asked nervously. This plan seemed more half-cocked than usual.

"No," Hogan said flatly. The frown that creased the Englishman's face prompted Hogan to wink and smile reassuringly. "Don't worry, it'll be all right." He glanced at the building. "I have to go. Good luck."

"Same to you guv."

Hogan winked and dashed away to catch up to his group before they missed him.

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Anderson took a deep breath and followed his escorts into the radio station. He was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

Sabotage wasn't his job- he was a bomber pilot for Pete Sakes!

A bomber pilot and an officer, he reminded himself. He wasn't some eighteen year old private. He could handle this. Sure he could. What was one little radio station?

Anderson was about to contradict himself again when he heard the sounds of heavy footsteps falling behind him. He turned and watched a guard quickly catch up to the group. Anderson shook his head and started to argue with himself again when he suddenly did a double-take. That wasn't a guard! That was Hogan!

Anderson had to stop himself from saying it aloud. Instead, he caught Hogan's eye and raised an eyebrow. The colonel allowed himself to wink before regaining the stern expression of a proper German guard.

Relief washed over Anderson. Good. He didn't have to be the crazy fool that pulled this off. But that didn't mean he could relax.

Ripping his attention away from Hogan so as not to draw suspicion to either one of them, Anderson instead focused on his German escorts. Kunze and Hochstetter were leading the group. Hochstetter stomped through the halls, shooting intimidating glances at everyone they happened to pass. As for Kunze, he walked about as if he owned the place.

"Stop. This is it," Kunze announced. He flung open a door at the end of the hall. "This is the recording room. Berlin Betty's program will start in five minutes. After you Major." Kunze gestured to the open doorway and stepped aside for the Gestapo man to enter.

"I have better things to do than listen to these prisoners speak on the radio," Hochstetter said flatly.

Kunze arched an eyebrow. "Then there will be no one to watch them but your guards as I have important matters to attend to as well." The two men stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Hochstetter looked away. Kunze smirked in triumph. "I will check in on you before I leave Herr Major. Right now, I need to ensure our messages are still being sent." Then, clicking his heels, Kunze nodded and headed away.

Anderson watched him go and shot a glance towards Hogan. Hogan also followed Kunze's progress, but remained still. Anderson could see the gears in his head turning. He was almost about to follow when Hochstetter's voice pierced the air.

"What are you standing there for?!" Both Anderson and Hogan nearly jumped a mile and turned to face Hochstetter who was boiling red with anger. Hogan snapped a quick salute, though Anderson noticed he kept his head down. Then he shoved the Captain, none too lightly, into the room. Hochstetter followed, muttering something about Klink and his stupidity being contagious.

Anderson surveyed the room he now found himself in. The room was small and plain- the only picture on the wall being a portrait of Hitler. On one side of the room, there was a large glass window that showed another room full of modern and somewhat antiquated equipment. Two men with headphones sat behind the controls, operating the system. In the center, there stood a lone microphone that was surrounded by a dozen folding chairs, where his men now sat. Hochstetter and his guards, including Hogan, surrounded them. Hogan stood closest to the door and kept a steady eye on Hochstetter. Anytime the Major would look over, Hogan quickly averted his gaze. Anderson scrunched his nose. It didn't seem like to best way to avoid suspicion, but it wasn't as if he could warn the colonel.

"Have a seat Captain," Hochstetter said, gesturing to an empty chair, "there is no need to be nervous. Just repeat everything that you told Doctor Kunze and everything will be fine." There was an underlying threat hidden in his tone that caused Anderson to shiver. Pushing his unease aside, he chose a chair closest to the door and sat down.

A moment later, a very voluptuous blond entered the room. Anderson could only assume that it was Berlin Betty herself. Every man in the room examined her with their eyes. She was everything they had imagined her to be when they heard her seductive voice on the radio. But there was a coldness in her eyes that negated her physical beauty.

"Good evening gentlemen," the blond greeted. "My name is Maria Berger, but I am sure you know me as Berlin Betty.

"Herr Doctor Kunze has already explained to me what you are doing here and I am very excited. Before we go on the air, let me just say it was an intelligent decision to surrender to the Third Reich and for bringing your plane down intact. It has been very useful to our Luftwaffe researchers." That made Anderson wince. She was rubbing salt into his wounds and seemed to know it. "I hope you will be able to convince the rest of your men to follow your shining examples." Anderson tried to hide a scowl as he saw the smug expression on her face.

"Now," she continued as a small red light began to flash, "we'll be going on the air in a moment. Doctor Kunze has informed me that you've already been told what to say. Don't be nervous. Just give your honest account of what happened and why you did it." She narrowed her eyes as she studied the Americans sitting before her. "I think we shall start with you Captain Anderson."

Anderson shot Hogan a quick look, gazed down at his watch and then back at Hogan. Hogan caught his eye and scowled, nodding towards Hochstetter. Anderson got the hint. He couldn't afford to draw anymore attention to Hogan than was necessary, especially with Hochstetter in the room. Though Hogan was keeping his face down, if Hochstetter paid too much attention then they'd all find themselves in front of a firing squad.

Anderson scowled. He had no idea what the plan was. How were they going to blow this place up with Hochstetter in the same room, watching their every move. One of them had to sneak out somehow, but at the moment, that didn't seem at all possible.

Suddenly, music filled the room and the men on the other side of the glass nodded at 'Betty'. Straightening her suit, Betty positioned herself in front of the microphone and waited for the music to end. "Good evening Allies," she said in a sultry voice. "This is Berlin Betty coming to you from the heart of Germany. Tonight, we have a special treat for you. We have several airmen from the 410th bomber division with us tonight and they have a special message for you. These brave, intelligent men recently landed their plane in Germany and turned themselves over to the Third Reich.

"And now, without further ado, I present to you Captain Anderson, the pilot of the B-17 bomber crew." She motioned for Anderson, who stood from his chair, but made no attempt to move closer. "Captain, would you care to tell your story, and explain what made you realize the obvious might of the Third Reich."

Anderson cleared his throat and slowly stepped forward. He couldn't do this. He was going to be sick. He was… wait a minute.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Anderson heaved. He stopped and hunched over and heaved heavily, trying to stem back the tide. Then, suddenly, he covered his mouth and darted towards the door.

"Was ist das!" Hochstetter yelled as Anderson dodged out the door. "Get back here! After him!!!"

"I will go Herr Major!" Hogan said quickly with a salute and ran after the fleeing captain.

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Oh the suspense?!

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	13. Ten Minutes, A Thousand Problems

Hmmmmm...

I decided that, for better or worse, I should bring this story out of mothballs and finish it before I start on another big one. Although, I must say, I'm quite fond on all my little weird stories... Anyway, we'll see how it goes...

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Hogan ran out the door and slammed it shut behind him. He scanned the hallway, but it was empty, save for Captain Anderson, who was hunched over near the door.

"What the hell was that!" Hogan demanded in a low voice.

"I was-" Anderson cut himself short. Brushing himself off, he stood a little straighter and donned a cheeky grin. He had been about to admit that he really had felt ill, but, still a little weary of Colonel Hogan, he decided to press a few buttons. "I didn't know what your plan was, or if you even had one, so I tried to give us an opening to plant those bombs."

Hogan scowled. "Yeah, sure, brilliant- you could've gotten shot! I would've gone with something more subtle. Hope Hochstetter's as dumb as you seem to think he is." Anderson winced; Hogan had a point. Not only had his stunt attracted more attention to himself, but it had put Hogan in the spotlight as well. Hochstetter wasn't dumb and so far, they had been ridiculously lucky that he hadn't recognized Hogan. "Anyway, he's not going to wait long for us to come back. We have to be fast."

Anderson nodded. "All right, I got us out here, the rest is up to you. Lead on."

"Gee thanks." Hogan pointed down the deserted hallway. "Kunze went this way." Hogan grabbed Anderson's arm tightly.

"Hey!" the captain protested.

"Appearances," Hogan explained as he briskly led Anderson through the hall, squeezing his arm just a little tighter than necessary. At least something was going well. It was getting late into the evening and so there would be few people milling about the radio station.

They came to the end and rounded a corner, only to run head-first into a young woman carrying a stack of papers. "Oh, excuse me Fraulein," Hogan said, looking just as surprised as she was. He held out his hands and helped her balance her load. The girl nodded and looked curiously at Anderson. "I must take this American to Doctor Kunze. Have you seen him?"

"Yes Corporal. He's in that room across the hall."

"Danke," Hogan said with a big grin. The girl blushed and hurried away. Hogan waited for her to round the corner and turned to Anderson. "Got the bombs?" Anderson nodded. "Good." Hogan let out a little sigh. "That room right there holds the evil secret of Berlin Betty," he said somewhat dramatically.

Anderson arched an eyebrow. "So, what's the plan? You just gonna march right in there? And then what?"

"I'll think of something. I always do."

"Very comforting."

"Here," Hogan handed Anderson a handgun. "Keep it out of sight and follow me. On better thought, stay out of sight period." He scanned the hall and smiled, pointing to a broom closet down the way. "Hide in there and wait."

"In there?" Anderson said, pointing to the closet. Hogan closed his eyes and gave a lopped-sided nod. "And wait? For what?"

"For an opening. And don't worry, when it comes, you'll see it- you've had no problem following the script so far." Without waiting for further arguments, Hogan stuffed Anderson into the closet. Anderson shot him a look to ask if he was actually serious. Hogan just smirked and closed the door a little ways. Pulling his hat down a little lower onto his face, he quickly turned serious and moved to the room the fraulein had indicated. Taking a deep breath, he knocked lightly on the door and opened it.

Hogan was met with a strange sight indeed. The room was small and crammed with machinery, covered in knobs, switches and blinking lights. Hogan wasn't sure what to make of it all. He felt himself wishing he'd brought a camera; London would be very interested in this. Oh well, maybe they'd settle for Kunze instead.

Speaking of Kunze, the good doctor was standing at the other end, inspecting the inside of the machine. He barely looked up at the intruder as he fiddled around with a few wires. "This room is off limits corporal."

"My apologies Herr Doctor, but Major Hochstetter wants to know if you require any assistance?"

"If I did, a camp guard would be the last person I'd ask." While still virtually ignoring Hogan, Kunze reached behind him and grabbed a long stretch of thin black film and began threading it into the machine. Hogan tilted his head, watching him curiously.

"Is that film Herr Doktor?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Magnetic tape," Kunze said off-handily. "Not that I expect you to know what that is." Kunze finished what he was doing and closed the machine panel. Brushing himself off, he allowed himself a little smirk. "Amazing how easily manipulated people are."

Hogan debated waiting to see what Kunze would do next. But time was running short. Any moment now, Hochstetter or one of his goons would be looking for him and Anderson. "Very interesting. How does it all work?" Hogan asked, pulling off his cap.

"You wouldn't under-" Kunze stiffened and whirled around to face the American, who had a Luger trained on Kunze's chest. "Hogan?! What are you doing here?"

"It's not polite to answer a question with a question," Hogan pointed out, waving the gun a bit.

Kunze was completely surprised. But the shocked look quietly faded into a smirk. "I was right. I knew you were not to be underestimated."

"Congratulations. You're very smart. Now, how does this contraption work?"

Kunze folded his arms. "A camp guard could understand it better than you could."

"Now is that a nice thing to say? Honestly doc, didn't you learn any manners as a kid?"

Kunze debated the merits of simply yelling out for a guard. Most likely, that would get him shot before he could. It wouldn't matter anyway. Most of the rooms in this building were sound-proof. The chances of anyone hearing him were slim so he'd probably get shot for nothing. So, he prudently decided to stay silent. Bully him all he wanted, Hogan wouldn't want to fire his gun unless necessary- the American obviously wanted him alive. And so, the two enemies stood at a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first.

Hogan, who didn't have much time, or patience for that matter, broke the silence. "Doesn't matter doc. You're coming with me anyway. I'm sure someone in London can pick you brains better than I can."

"I think I'll stay here. You can't possibly think you can get me out of this building unnoticed," Kunze said rather smugly.

Hogan arched an eyebrow. "Well, I can try. I've gotten this far, haven't I? The rest should be downhill." And with that, he slipped behind Kunze and shoved the end of his gun into the scientist's back. "After you Kunze. We'll just slip out. I'm sure you have a lab somewhere in Berlin. If anyone asks, you're just going for some equipment."

"I have no lab. I work here at the station. It's more practical."

Hogan let out a little sigh of relief. "Sure is. One less thing I have to blow up."

"Blow up?" Kunze repeated with surprise. "You're going to blow up the radio station?! You can't!" A slow smile crossed Kunze face. "There are so many people here. Civilians even."

Hogan hesitated. Kunze had a point. He wouldn't just be blowing up Kunze's work. Even though it was rather late in the evening, there'd be other people milling about the station somewhere. That pretty fraulein he'd bumped into, janitors, operators, who knew. And what about all those people on the streets or in the nearby buildings?

Hogan suddenly shook his head. Those were Kunze's dumb subliminal messages were getting in the way of his thinking… right? But the thought of just blaming it all on that frightened him. Didn't he have a conscience?

Kunze took advantage of Hogan's inner conflict and jabbed the American in the stomach. Caught completely off guard, Hogan staggered back and Kunze ran for it.

Captain Anderson could only think of sweet revenge as he tried to get comfortable in the small closet. A few buckets were precariously perched on a shelf above him, threatening to topple at any moment, while behind him, a broom and a few dusters were jabbing him in the back and side. To make matter worse, he'd accidentally stepped into a bucket full of water and now his foot was soaked. He hated wet socks more than anything. Needless to say, Hogan was also not his favorite person right now. Not that he ever had been…

Anderson shook his head, an action which dangerously altered the positions of everything around him, and tried to concentrate on the view he had from the small opening of the door. Hogan had said to wait for an opening. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to look like. He was more or less hoping Hogan had everything under control and he'd just have to wait for the colonel to fetch him. He decided such thoughts could be considered cowardly, but, truth be told, he was sick of this entire business. Heck, if Hogan got him out of this, he might even like him. In fact, if he got out of this in one piece, he might even forgive Dawson for starting this whole thing. After all, it wasn't _really_ the corporal's fault.

Growling in frustration, Anderson kept his eye on what he could see of the hallway. The sound of heavy, almost angry footsteps caught his attention and Anderson held his breath. He let out the tiniest groan when a menacing figure clad in black rounded the far corner. Great, just great. Major Hochstetter had come looking for them.

Anderson bit his lip and tightened his grip on his handgun. He couldn't let Hochstetter into that room. But he couldn't very well jump out and shoot the man, could he?

Hochstetter was still a safe distance away when another sound caught his attention. A little cry of surprise from the other room. Hochstetter seemed to notice it too and quickened his step.

"Major Hochstetter!" a voice cried. It was Kunze. Holy cactuses! What the hey had happened? Where was Hogan? Oh great.

Anderson didn't give it another thought and jumped out of the closet. "Anderson!" Hochstetter yelled in surprise and reached for his gun.

John Wayne had nothing on Anderson. Years on a ranch had taught him a thing or two about shooting and even as Hochstetter's hand went to his waist, Anderson had already fired a shot. With a loud curse and a cry of surprise, Hochstetter dropped to the ground.

"Major Hochstetter, Colo-" Kunze began, but Anderson shoved him into the wall and grabbed his collar. He hauled him into the radio room, bumping into Colonel Hogan in the doorway. Hogan quickly recovered and pulled the other two in.

"What happened?!" Hogan demanded, glaring at Kunze.

Anderson's brain tried to wrap itself around everything that happened. "I shot Hochstetter. He's out in the hall. Dunno if he's alive or what," Anderson explained, a little out of breath.

Hogan's jaw dropped a little. Hochstetter? Dead? Wow… he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that. He knew he should've been happy. After all, Hochstetter was a major pain and a threat to the operation. But still… as much as Hogan hated him, he'd sort of gotten use to Hochstetter as an opponent.

"Hochstetter, if you can hear me-"

Hogan whirled around and clamped his hand over Kunze's mouth. "Listen, one more shot isn't going to make much of a difference now." He turned to Anderson . "Set your explosives and let's get the heck on out of here before someone comes to see what all the noise is about." Anderson nodded and fished the explosives out of his pocket. "Put them around the room," Hogan instructed.

"Right. How long do you want them set for?"

"Ten minutes. That should be enough to get on out of here." Anderson nodded and set the explosives before placing them about the room.

"Done. Ten minutes." Anderson wiped his forehead and looked to Hogan who gave a quick nod. Moving to the door, he poked his head out. Hochstetter was still on the ground, muttering angrily, but he didn't seem too much of a threat. "Coast is clear. But we should go the other way to avoid Hochstetter."

"He still alive?" Hogan asked, pulling on his cap.

"Sounds like it. And mighty mad too."

"When isn't he?" Hogan muttered. "All right, let's go Kunze," he said as he led the scientist out behind Anderson. He shot a quick glance over to Hochstetter, who was clutching his stomach. Scrunching his nose, Hogan turned away and followed Anderson down to the other end of the hall.

It took a few precious minutes, but they finally made it back to the broadcasting room without running into anyone. "Hold him for a sec." Hogan said, pushing Kunze to Anderson. Anderson shoved his weapon into his pocket and grabbed the German, clamping one hand over his mouth and gripping his arm tightly with the other. "Stay out of sight for a minute." Anderson nodded and backed into an open doorway. Taking a deep breath, Hogan took a step towards the room and swung open the door. All the occupants jumped and whirled around to see what the matter was. Berlin Betty looked especially surprised and angry as she was just in the middle of speaking into the microphone.

"Quick! Captain Anderson has escaped!"

Everyone looked shocked. "Betty" was the first to recover. Ever the professional, she quickly turned back to the radio. "We'll now be favored with a selection of the Fuhrer's favorite melodies." She turned to the men behind the glass and motioned for them to take the show off the air. She turned to Hogan. "Captain Anderson has escaped?!"

"Yes, and he shot Major Hochstetter. Quick, you-" he pointed to one of Hochstetter's men- "go tend to the Major. The rest of you, go search for the American! I'll watch the prisoners." The guards scrambled about to do as they were told. They rushed past Hogan and out into the hall. "You men too!" he yelled at the operators behind the glass. "He's that way." Hogan yelled, pointing in the wrong direction. The guards ran off. When they were out of sight, Anderson and Kunze popped out and ducked into the room.

"What is this?" Berlin Betty demanded.

"Oh look. I found him… Come back men," he said quietly with a tiny grin. He turned to the other Americans. "All right, we're getting out of here. We have less than five minutes before this whole place goes up."

"Hey! You're the colonel from Stalag 13!" one of Anderson's men shouted in surprise. Anderson cocked his head to one side and glanced at him, a little surprised at who had made the outburst. Jenkins paled and shook his head. "Brilliant. Let's go."

"Glad you approve," Hogan said dryly. "You're coming with us too Miss Berger."

"Where you taking me?" she demanded as Hogan grabbed her by the arm. "Why are you taking me?!"

"Well you don't want to stay here, do you?" Berlin Betty just glared at him. "Let's go," he ordered and led the company into the hall. Anderson stood by the door with Kunze to follow up the rear.

"This guy for real, Captain?" Dawson asked as he slipped past Anderson and into the hall.

"Yeah. Don't worry so much. That's my job," he said lightly.

Dawson paused and glanced back at his captain. That had probably been the nicest thing Anderson had said to him since the whole thing began. In fact, it'd probably been the _only_ thing he had said. Anderson just gave him a small smile, which he returned. "Hey cap-"

"Later," Anderson said. Dawson nodded and followed the rest of the men. Kunze rolled his eyes and tried to get out of Anderson's grip. "Oh no you don't. Come on." Anderson was too busy struggling with Kunze to notice that Jenkins hadn't left the room. "Ow! Hey!" Anderson cried as Kunze bit his hand. He drew his hand away and waved it about.

"What's going on?" Hogan called, turning to look back. His eyes grew wide. "Holy- Anderson!"

Anderson turned to look at what Hogan was pointing at, just in time to see Jenkins pull away from him, gun in hand.

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Oh! A twist? Maybe... shifty eyes!

Hmmm. Magnetic tape... I looked it up (being curious as I usually am) and guess what? Turns out it was first invented for sound recording by the Germans. Seems it was kept mostly secret from the rest of the world before and during the war. It wasn't until after the war ended that the Americans were able the bring the technology to the world. Magentic tape- the most closely guarded secret in Germany?! Eh... probably not...

Well, I'm off again...

Later days.


	14. Two Enemies, One Prisoner

Rolling along, just rolling along... until a pickle squishes me!!!

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"Jenkins?" Anderson cried in shock as the private aimed the gun at him. "What the hell is this?"

"What's it look like?" Jenkins smirked. "I'll take Doctor Kunze off your hands, if you please."

"Wait a minute? You're a Kraut?" Dawson hollered, angry at the betrayal. He wasn't the only one. Anderson was positively seething. Jenkins? Little Hank Jenkins who hardly said a word, always willing to follow orders- a Kraut? This wasn't happening; it was impossible. What was he thinking? This whole situation was impossible. Unless he wanted to go insane, he'd might as well just accept it was going to get crazier. But still- Jenkins?

"I'm not a Kraut."

"Then why?" Anderson demanded, feeling like he was caught in some crazy melodrama starring Byron Buckles.

"It just hit me one day after a mission. We weren't really accomplishing anything, like they say we are. We're not stopping any great German offensive or anything. We're just wrecking cities," Jenkins explained. "I've been working for the Germans for a few months now."

"That's just Kunze's messages getting to you. You don't really feel that way," Anderson reasoned.

Jenkins shook his head. "No. It didn't take any messages or propaganda to make me see the light." Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Hogan going for his gun. "I see you colonel. Don't move- I'm a pretty good shot. I could probably get you right between the eyes without so much as grazing Miss Berger's hair."

Hogan stopped and glared at him. "Now what? There's less than five minutes before this place blows sky high," Hogan growled.

"Just let Doctor Kunze go and you can leave," Jenkins said simply.

"Right. And then we'd go home to a bunch of waiting Gestapo men."

"I could shoot you now," Jenkins suggested. "Captain?"

Anderson looked back at Hogan, who glared at Jenkins. Suddenly, Kunze jabbed his captor in the stomach and freed himself, running to Jenkins side. Hogan grabbed his gun and let off a shot, hitting Kunze in the shoulder. Jenkins returned the shot. With a cry of surprise, Anderson grabbed his side and fell to the floor. In the confusion, Jenkins grabbed hold of Kunze and let off a few more shots before running down the hall.

Hogan shoved Berlin Betty to one of Anderson's men and rushed up to the captain. "You okay Anderson?"

"Yeah, just peachy thanks," Anderson muttered through gritted teeth. "Knew that kid was a horrible shot. Bet he was aiming for you."

"Don't flatter yourself. Did you know Jenkins was with the Krauts?"

Anderson looked up at the colonel as if he was insane. "Oh sure. Of course I did. That's why I let him be on my crew- can't have too many enemies flying with you."

"All right, all right. Hold tight." He motioned for two of the men to come over. "Take him. One of my guys is outside waiting in the truck." He checked his watch. "I'm going after Jenkins and Kunze. If I'm not out in three minutes, get the heck on out of here. And that's an order." The men nodded and helped Anderson up.

Anderson grunted in pain as they led him out. Hogan waited for a moment before turning to take off after Jenkins. "Hey Hogan!" He looked back and caught Anderson's eye. "Be careful huh?" He struggled for a second before continuing. "He's not one of our guys anymore."

"Right. Get going." And with that, Hogan gave chase. As he rounded the corner, another shot filled the air. Hogan cursed and ducked back behind the wall. How many bullets did this guy have left?

Carefully, he peeked around the corner again, but the coast was clear and he took off. He checked his watch. Two minutes. More or less. That's what Carter had said. He prayed it was more.

As he reached another corner, Hogan pressed himself against the wall and held his gun up, ready to fire. He peeked around the corner just in time to see Kunze and Jenkins opening a door on the other end. He let off a shot and was rewarded with Kunze stumbling through the door, knocking over Jenkins in the process. Hogan left the safety of his cover and ran after them. He stopped outside the door and licked his lips.

"All right, put down your gun Jenkins. You can't get away." He was met with silence. Taking a deep breath, Hogan carefully slid closer and looked into the room. Despite the door being the only exit, there was no one there. Cursing silently to himself, Hogan stepped into the room. A flash of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned just in time for Jenkins to hit him on the side of the face with his gun. Hogan stumbled back but quickly regained his senses.

Something had finally gone right- Jenkins was obviously out of bullets. Of course, his own gun still had bullets. Which was probably why Jenkins leapt at him and grabbed onto his wrist, fighting to get the gun away. The two Americans struggled against each other, each trying to take possession of the weapon. Hogan twisted and turned and slammed his elbow back into Jenkins nose. Jenkins immediately let go with a yelp of pain. Turning, Hogan punched him once as hard as he could and then again for good measures, sending the private to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Hogan caught his breath and levelled his gun at Jenkins, just in case the man regained consciousness. Scanning the room, he quickly found Kunze propped up in a corner. "Well that was a lot of hassle for nothing."

Kunze gave him a wry smile. "There's less than a minute before those bombs go off. If nothing else, at least you will die too. And when you don't return to Stalag 13, General Burkhalter will tear the place apart. After all, how could you escape from the cooler?"

Hogan checked his watch. Kunze was right. Less than a minute. He'd have to fly like the wind to get out. "We're getting out."

Kunze laughed bitterly. "You can't carry both of us. We will all die, thanks to you and your bombs. Sad really. All I wanted to do was stop the killing. I just wanted you Allies to realize that you were dropping bombs on people like yourselves. Look at Jenkins! He was one of Anderson's men. The bomber crew must've laughed with him, cried with him. Does his working for us change all that? And now my work, perhaps the only chance for peace, will be destroyed and no one else will be able to finish it."

"You're full of it Kunze," Hogan said, shaking his head. "We're not the only ones who bomb cities. Last time I checked, London was getting bombed too." He wasn't about to spend his last seconds on the earth listening to Kunze. Holstering his gun, he bent down and grabbed Jenkins and slung him over his shoulder.

"What are you doing? You can't make it with both of us."

"Who says I'm taking both of you?" Hogan grunted. He checked his watch. His ten minutes were up. But luck was finally shining on him. Carter was off. Not wanting to push his returning luck any further, Hogan nodded to Kunze and turned to run out the door.

"Wait! Hogan! You can't leave me here!"

Hogan ignored him and ran out of the room. He couldn't let himself listen to Kunze, because the man was right. He didn't _want_ to leave Kunze there, but unless he wanted to go up in flames, he had to get out of the building right now. Kunze was right- he couldn't take two prisoners with him.

Despite the extra weight, Hogan had never run so fast in his life. Along the way, he grabbed his own explosives from his pocket and twisted the timers with his teeth. As he reached the exit, he rolled them into a nearby room as gently as he could and bolted out the main doors and into the night air outside. Parked right in front of him was the truck. Newkirk waved to him. Hogan pushed Jenkins in and jumped in after him. "Let's get the heck out of here."

"Righto guv'nor," Newkirk said with a little salute before gunning the gas and taking off. They were barely a block away when the sound of an explosion ripped through the air, followed by another and another. Hogan looked back to see the building shudder. He grimaced slightly. Hopefully, when the other explosives went off in more or less than ten minutes, the whole building would collapse on itself.

But they couldn't stick around to find out. Settling back into the seat he shot Newkirk a dirty look.

"Everything go well colonel?" Newkirk asked, oblivious to the Colonel's pointed gaze.

"I thought I told you to leave in three minutes," Hogan said, trying to sound angry.

Newkirk just grinned slyly. "Well, I know you guv'. You always run a little late when there's a crunch on. All you needed was another minute or two."

"I don't always run late," Hogan said with a pout that quickly turned into a grin. "Anyway, thanks. Now, let's get back home before this whole thing catches up to us."

"Right. Hey, what happened with Hochstetter then? I saw a bunch of goons rush out carrying him right after our chaps got into the truck."

Hogan looked at him in surprise. "He got out?" He paused, mulling that over. For some dumb reason that he could quite explain to himself, he felt relieved. But it was the last thing he would admit. "Then we've really gotta get home quick. If I know Hochstetter, he'll bounce right back and head to Stalag 13 looking for answers. Which he won't find of course."

"Course," Newkirk echoed with a cheeky smile. "After all, we've been in the cooler the whole time."

Beside him, Jenkins began stirring. "Pull over here Newkirk," Hogan ordered. Newkirk brought the truck to the curb.

"Hey, wait a minute. That's not Kunze," Newkirk said, just realizing who the other passenger was. "What happened to him?"

Hogan shook his head. "It's a long story. The short version is Jenkins here is a traitor. I had to choose between him and Kunze and I chose him."

"Blimey colonel," Newkirk breathed in disbelief, "one of the ruddy reasons we came here was to get Kunze. And you just left him?"

"I had my reasons," Hogan countered. "Here, let's get him into the back." Hogan and Newkirk jumped out and dragged Jenkins to the back of the truck, throwing him in. "All right Newkirk, get going. I'll stay back here."

"Right," Newkirk nodded and jogged back to the front of the truck. A moment later, the truck lurched forward and they were on their way.

Hogan motioned for two of Anderson's men to come over. "Watch him," he ordered, pointing to Jenkins. They both nodded, looking at their former friend with disgust. "Let me know when he comes to." Leaving them, he made his way over to Dawson, who had Anderson's head resting in his lap. He looked at the corporal, who just shrugged uneasily. "Hey, Anderson," Hogan greeted.

"So you got out huh?" Anderson said, his speech a little slurred. "Or am I dead too?"

"No, we're both in the land of the living," Hogan told him.

"That's good… Good, good, good. You get Kunze?"

"No, I left him behind. I got Jenkins though."

Anderson scrunched his nose. "He shot me you know. That kid couldn't hit the broad side of a barn." Anderson laughed. "You know, when this whole thing started, I figured he'd be the only one to come out on my good side."

"Yeah, I've noticed you're not a very good judge of character," Hogan pouted. Anderson just rolled his eyes. "Here, let me take a look at your stomach." Hogan pried Anderson's hands away and pulled at his shirt to get a better look.

"Gee Hogan, I never knew you cared," Anderson managed as Hogan prodded at his wound.

"Anderson?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up will ya."

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This chapter was brought to you by pink lemonade- Summer In A Glass, as I call it. Seriously, summer just isn't summer unless you have pink lemonade. In fact, I think pink lemonade just makes the world a better place. Everyone should go out and have a glass right the heck now. I'm going to, that's for sure. But make sure it has pulp- though I don't even think lemonade can be pulpless. But if it can, then ignore it- it's not even awesome. Nope, pink lemonade with pulp is the way to go. With ice... and hot dogs! Ah yes, the perfect summer combination- pink lemonade and hot dogs... And before anyone says anything, I'll just say that the perfect summer DOESN'T include watermelon. You know what watermelon is?! Gritty water. If all you want is gritty water, just drink from the tap...

That's it... end of rant...


	15. War is War

Last chapter... Oh, and I don't own MASH or any of it's characters... MWAHAHA... Now I got you thinking and going "What?!"

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After dumping the truck a few miles from camp, and using Newkirk's explosives to destroy it, the Americans made their way back to Stalag 13 as fast as they possibly could with one man wounded and another gagged and hog-tied.

The camp was quiet- that was a good sign, wasn't it? Either they had gotten there before the news of what had happened, or Burkhalter had found out and had had all the prisoners shot. Hogan didn't even want to think about the latter, but it wouldn't leave his mind.

Finally, they reached the tunnel entrance. Everything looked normal.

Hogan let out a sigh of relief. "All right, Newkirk, you go first and tell Carter to get Wilson to meet us in the radio room."

"Right," Newkirk nodded. He waited until the camp's searchlight passed over before dodging to the tree stump and disappearing into the tunnel. Hogan waved the rest of the group in, starting with Anderson and his escorts, Jenkins and his and then finally, Hogan led Berlin Betty into the tunnels- no easy task when the woman was squirming so. The group made their way through the tunnel until they reached the radio room. Kinch , LeBeau and Newkirk were waiting for them.

"What happened?" Kinch asked as soon as he saw Hogan. "Newkirk's being pretty vague. Why did you send for Wilson? You all right?"

"Relax mother, I'm fine. He's not so great though," Hogan said, jerking his thumb towards Anderson who had lagged behind him. "Get him settled, would you?" LeBeau and Newkirk went about helping to get Anderson comfortable. Hogan sat Betty down in a corner. After a moment deliberation, he took the gag out of her mouth, ready to stuff it back in if it looked like she would scream. However, she kept silent, simply looking around the massive tunnels with wide eyes.

"Where's Kunze? And hey, isn't that-" Kinch asked, pointing to Jenkins.

"Jenkins. He's part of Anderson's crew. Or was. Turns out he was working with the Krauts."

Kinch raised an eyebrow and looked back at Dawson. "I guess you weren't the traitor after all."

Dawson ducked his head and ground his toe into the dirt. "I still am. This whole mess started because of me."

"There's enough blame to go around," Anderson muttered. "Geez this hurts. Hope that doc of yours has some morphine."

"He might have enough to keep you quiet," Hogan said lightly. Anderson replied with a sarcastic laugh. Hogan just grinned and turned to Kinch. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"All quiet Colonel. And what happened to Kunze."

Hogan sighed and slowly began to change out of his German uniform. "I left him behind. He was hopefully killed in that blast." At Kinch's curious look he pressed on. "Listen, Kunze was important, no doubt. London would've been interested in him. But his experiment would more or less depend on the Germans listening to our radio shows."

"And the only Germans who do that are usually already on our side," Kinch picked up.

"Right. But Jenkins here went over to the Krauts a few months ago. He must have some contacts in England. I figured London could get more out of him than Kunze. I'll probably get into hot water over the whole thing but-" Hogan shrugged. He was too tired at the moment to really care.

"What now sir?" Dawson asked.

"Now?" Hogan rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, when Anderson is ready to travel, we'll get London to pick you up in a sub-"

"You can do that?" Berlin Betty said, hardly believing what she'd heard.

Hogan grinned a little. "Sure. We'll even send you along for the ride. I bet you know _something_ about Kunze and his experiment."

Betty stuck her chin out and glared at him. "I know nothing!"

"Yeah, that'd be too good to be true, wouldn't it?" Hogan shrugged. "In that case, you get to sit out the rest of the war someplace cozy." The thought sounded extremely unfair to Hogan for a second as he looked up at the roof of the damp tunnel.

Even if he wanted to, Hogan had no time to think about that for a moment later, Carter came scrambling into the tunnel. "I think there's trouble up top sir," Carter announced. "Klink and Burkhalter just went into Klink's office."

"Oh boy. You get Wilson?"

"Yeah. But I thought maybe we should wait to bring him down here in case Klink orders a special roll call."

"All right, good. Everyone back up top. Dawson, keep Miss Berger company and make sure she doesn't wander off. Anderson, just hang tight." Anderson just grunted. Hogan gave him a quick smile and dashed down the tunnels towards the cooler, Newkirk one step behind him. When they reached the cooler, Hogan tapped on the exit. A moment later, the trap opened and Olsen stuck his head out.

"You're back? Good, I'm ready for a demotion."

"Anything wrong?" Hogan asked.

"No. Schultz was the guard. He poked his head in every once and a while to see if I was still here, but I pretended to be asleep," Olsen reported as he climbed down into the tunnel. A few feet away, Fuller had done the same and was now giving Newkirk his clothes back.

"Good," Hogan said as he took his jacket and crush cap from Olsen. "All right you two, good job. Now get back to the barracks posthaste." Olsen and Fuller saluted before disappearing down the tunnel. Hogan and Newkirk quickly scrambled into the cooler. Hogan had just closed the entrance when he heard heavy footsteps echoing in the hall. Dusting himself off, he dived onto the rock hard mattress on his cot and covered himself up with a blanket. A moment later, Burkhalter and Klink burst into the tiny cell.

"Hogan, you're here!" Klink said in delight.

Hogan pretended to stir himself awake and looked up at the intruders. "Mmm, been 30 days already?" he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Sergeant Schultz!" Burkhalter bellowed. A moment later, Schultz poked his head into the doorway.

"Yes Herr General?"

"Was Hogan in here the whole time?"

Schultz clicked his heels together and held his head up a little. "Of course! And the Englander too! I made sure I watched them every second. Nothing escaped my attention!"

"Oh shut up Schultz," Klink grumbled, shaking his fist a little. Burkhalter ignored both of them.

"Hogan do you know what has happened?" Burkhalter demanded.

Hogan grinned. "You guys surrendered?"

Klink stamped his foot on the ground. "Captain Anderson and his men have escaped!"

Hogan blinked in surprise and got up. "Really? And I thought he liked it here!"

"He didn't escape from here. No one ever escapes from Stalag 13-"

"Quiet Klink," Burkhalter growled before turning back to Hogan. "Captain Anderson and his men destroyed the radio station in Berlin."

"No," Hogan gasped.

"Yes!" Klink said. Burkhalter shot him a dirty look.

"And you think _I_ had something to do with it? I'm hurt! How could I do anything when I've been stuck in here?"

"The question is, where did Anderson get those explosives," Burkhalter said, eyeing Hogan suspiciously. "And why would he surrender to us and then blow up our radio station?"

"It's quite simple sir," Hogan said with a small smile. "Anderson never surrendered to you, it was all a fake. Obviously the Allies found out about Kunze's scheme and sent Anderson and his men to destroy it."

Burkhalter looked thoughtful for a moment. "That must be it. Major Hochstetter must not have been thinking clearly when he phoned. He seemed to think you might have had something to do with all this."

Hogan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Major Hochstetter sir?"

"Yes. He phoned us a few minutes ago to tell us what had happened," Klink explained. "Can you believe that Anderson shot him?"

"Hochstetter was shot? Gee that's too bad, I hope he's all right- he's such a nice guy." Klink just looked confused, but Burkhalter, who picked up on Hogan's sarcasm, just snorted.

"The Gestapo are the only people allowed to actually kill a Gestapo officer," Burkhalter grimaced. "I am sure Major Hochstetter will be back in no time, demanding an explanation for all this."

"Good thing you've already figured it out General," Hogan smiled, rocking on his heels ever so slightly.

Burkhalter nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it is. I knew we couldn't trust Anderson."

"You're right General Burkhalter, I never trusted him either," Klink agreed.

"Oh, me neither. That's why I slugged him. Come to think about it, the whole reason I'm in the cooler is because I slugged him… Seeing as he turned against you guys I think I ought to be let out."

Klink thought about it for a moment and looked up at Burkhalter, who simply rolled his eyes. "Very well Hogan, your sentence is suspended. But the Englander stays here. Schultz take him back to his barracks." And with that, Klink and Burkhalter marched out of the cooler.

"Ruddy shame Hochstetter's all right," Newkirk said from behind his cell door.

"Eh, it's not too bad."

"You are joking, right Colonel Hogan," Schultz asked.

"Are you balmy colonel? Now Hochstetter's just going to be more ornery than ever."

Hogan shrugged with a little smile. "You know, when I was a kid, there was this big mean dog who used to chase me everyday on my way home from school. One day he was just- oh shoot." Hogan snapped his fingers. He was starting to sound like Carter- that couldn't be good. Anyway, he had no time to get side-tracked. "Never mind. I'll see about getting you out tomorrow Newkirk. Right now, I've got things to do."

"Wh-wh-what things? It is the middle of the night," Schultz asked uneasily.

"Do you really want to know?" Hogan asked with a cheeky grin.

Schultz scrunched his nose. "No. I don't want to know anything!"

"You're better off that way Schultzie. See you… when I get out Colonel."

"Right," Hogan said, knowing that Newkirk was at this moment lowering himself into the tunnels. "Come on Schultz, take me home."

-------------------------------------------

"Ready to go home?" Hogan asked as his men prepared Anderson and his crew to travel.

"Am I ever. Not to knock your hospitality, but these tunnels aren't the nicest place to be when you're sick," Anderson remarked as he gingerly slipped into a civilian shirt and did up the buttons while Wilson hovered around him.

"Up top's even worse," Hogan remarked wryly.

"Now is that a nice thing to say?" Carter, who was close by setting Dawson up with some maps, asked, sounding a little hurt. "After all, this is practically our home."

"Sorry Andrew," Hogan apologized, rolling his eyes good naturedly. Carter looked consoled and went back to his task. Hogan shook his head and turned his attention to Jenkins, who was gagged and being held by two of his former comrades. "You're going to be heading out any minute now Jenkins. I suggest you behave yourself or your old friends might just save London the trouble of executing you as a traitor." Jenkins paled and nodded. "Same rules roughly apply to you Miss Berger," Hogan said to Berlin Betty, who just scowled back at him. Hogan turned back to Anderson. "Don't worry about them. Someone from the Underground is going to travel with you to make sure you all get to the sub safely."

"What's going to happen when we get back?" Dawson asked nervously.

"We've already told London about everything. You'll probably spend a million years in debriefing. After that, it's up to London what happens."

"Very reassuring," Dawson sighed.

"All ready to go Colonel," Kinch said, coming up behind him. "I just radioed the Underground. They'll meet up at the usual place. I already gave Dawson the co-ordinates."

"Right. Coast clear outside LeBeau?"

LeBeau, who was looking through their periscope that showed them the woods outside the wire, nodded. "Oui mon colonel."

"Well, this is it. Good luck."

"Thanks. Good luck with all this," Anderson said, gesturing to the tunnel. He paused for a moment and after a moment of thought, he straightened himself as best he could and offered Hogan a salute.

Hogan grinned and returned the salute. Nodding, Anderson turned and made his way up the ladder. "Oh, wait. Anderson," Hogan said, stopping Anderson in his tracks. "If we ever see each other on the street someday, let's just pretend we don't know each other."

"Right," Anderson nodded before going up the ladder and disappearing up top. Hogan waited for the rest of the party to leave before leaning back against the wall and letting out a little sigh.

"Well, that's it then," Kinch said after a moment. "Back to the daily routine of Stalag 13."

"Yeah. Boy, am I beat. I think I'll sleep for a year," Carter remarked as he made his way back to the barracks, followed by Newkirk and LeBeau. Kinch went to follow them but stopped when he noticed Hogan looking off into space.

"Something wrong Colonel?" Kinch asked quietly.

Hogan shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at the sergeant. "No. Why?"

Kinch shrugged. "You looked a little worried. I thought something was bothering you."

Hogan gripped his elbows and thought for a moment. Usually he wouldn't let his men on his doubts, but this particular situation was bugging him more than anything before. Finally, he sighed and dropped his hands to his side. "It's this whole thing."

"What whole thing?" Kinch pressed.

Hogan scrunched his nose, trying to think of how to put it. "Kunze. All his messages… He was right. Bombing little old ladies, orphans, blowing up trains and factories- hurting people whose only crime is being on the wrong side. It's… wrong."

"Well, war's a dirty business." Hogan just looked up at him with a blank expression. He knew that when he made the army his career. But still, the answer was unsatisfying to the colonel. Kinch let out a slow sigh. "This is the way I figure it colonel: if we just stop and let the Nazis take over, a lot more civilians are going to get hurt, and it won't be unintentional."

There was a long silence. Finally, Hogan sighed and smiled. "You know Kinch, one of these days I'm gonna put you in for officer's training."

Kinch smiled back. "Colonel James I. Kinchloe. It has a nice ring."

Hogan slapped him on the back and led him to the barrack's entrance. "Let's not get cocky now."

The End

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And now for the random snippet that inspired this whole story:

"Well, everyone knows war is Hell," Frank Burns sniped from his table.

"War isn't Hell," Hawkeye countered. "War is war and Hell is Hell and of the two of them, war is worse."

Father Mulcahy, who had been listening with interest, moved closer. "How do you figure?"

"Who goes to Hell?" Hawkeye demanded.

"Sinners, I believe," Mulcahy answered, not sure where this was going.

"Right. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. But war is chalk full of them."

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Excuse me folks while I jump off this incredibly high soapbox that I've built myself.

--------------------------------------

Well, that's it. My first story, now complete. Thanks everyone for your pointers- this was definitely a learning experience. I guess the biggest lesson I learned was to not shelve my projects for so long- it's hard to come back to them with the same sort of zip and zing. Next time I start an intentionally big story, I think I'll have it written out first, so if I get stuck, you guys won't be left hanging. Anyway… speaking of my next big story, here's a little preview!

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"So, what does the Bald Eagle want now?" Hogan asked as he followed Schultz into the outer office. He winked at fraulein Hilda, who giggled and blew him a kiss.

"I think he wants you to meet our new guard," Schultz explained. "I have not met him myself; he came in last night while I was sleeping."

"A new guard huh?" Hogan scratched his chin. It was a bit odd that Klink would call him in just to meet a new guard. And why hadn't Schultz met him yet?

Shrugging, Hogan brushed off his coat and pulled open the door to the Kommandant's office and strode in. He stopped dead in his tracks. Looking up, his jaw dropped and practically hit the ground.

In front of him was the biggest man he'd ever seen. Clad in a corporal's uniform, the great behemoth turned and looked back down at him. Hogan couldn't do anything but stare. The man was huge- his muscles' muscles had muscles. In fact, this guy made Superman look like Tiny Tim.

"Boy, what kind of Wheaties do they feed you?" Hogan finally managed.

He could hear Klink chuckle and a moment later, the Kommandant stepped out from behind the giant and clapped his hands together, rubbing them in delight. "Good morning Hogan," Klink said, barely containing his laugher at the look on Hogan's face. "May I introduce you to our new guard- Corporal Weiss. He's been assigned here temporarily." Temporarily? Hogan let out a sigh of relief. Good. No way did he want this guy around longer than he had to. Heck, he was probably so heavy, he'd fall right into their tunnels.

Hogan looked Weiss up and down. "Please to meet you corporal. Welcome to Stalag 13. It isn't much, but we like to call it home." Weiss just grunted. Hogan shot Klink a curious look. "Does it talk? Or did he trade all his brains in for brawn?" Weiss growled and clenched his fist. Hogan jumped back and held up his hands. "Down boy! Stay! Sit!… Play dead!"

"Enough of your insolence Hogan!" Klink demanded, though it was more for Hogan's safety than anything else. "I warn you Hogan, I will not have you insulting Corporal Weiss." More importantly, Corporal Weiss probably wouldn't have Hogan insult him. "From now on, security at Stalag 13 will be Weiss's duty. He will not be as forgiving as Schultz."

"Thanks for the warning," Hogan muttered. "May I go now? I gotta re-enforce all our tunnels before this guy steps outside."

Klink stomped his foot on the ground. "Diiiissss-missed!"

Throwing Klink a quick salute, Hogan gave Weiss one last glance before hightailing it out of the office.

Oh boy…

**Übermenschen**

**Coming to a Theatre Near You**

**Sometime 2007**

Thanks everyone, it's been a real blast.

Tuttle


End file.
